The Lady of Chaos
by HalesieWhalesie
Summary: Estella's immediate family is nonexistent. As an orphaned child, the only person she knew who was connected to her home was a philosophical wizard with a pointy grey hat. When Gandalf comes with a proposition she can't seem to refuse, Stella gets thrown into the world she only heard stories about as a child. And, along the way, she may just learn who her true family is.
1. The Return To Middle Earth

**_Hey!_**

**_So,this is my very first story on the account and my very first story about Middle Earth and it's inhabitants..._**

**_Excited? Yes._**

**_A wee bit scared? Totally._**

**_But hey, what can you do? _**

**_First things first though: Biiiiiig thanks to my darling best friend Jo who just so happens to be my 'editor'. She basically tells me when I'm wrong and bothers me until I stop chickening out and updates this. She's fantastic, but I would never say so because I do not want this to go right to her head :P_**

**_Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own anything in this story, except for Stella. _**

* * *

_It was late._

_The sky had yawned away the evening clouds of pink and gold, and was now riddled with flecks of star light. The trees whispered soft songs to all the woodland creatures, sending even the small chirping critters high in the branches into a deep slumber. The river's current slowed to a dim patter against the smooth rocks, creating a sense of utter peace._

_However, while there was peace, there was also danger lurking in the shadows._

_Melui knew this, of course, but that did not stop her from traipsing through the brush of the forest, the sound of her foot steps nonexistent. She hastily walked, slow enough not to awaken the bundle in her arms, but fast enough to get to the river before the full moon rose to it's highest peak. Melui stopped at the bank, carefully observing her surroundings and the child in the crook of her arm._

_"You have arrived, my friend," a voice cut into the night, soft and calm, not unlike the night itself. Gandalf the Grey rose from the tree where he was kneeled at, removing his pipe and sen__t Melui a nod of his head. "Come. We do not have much time."_

_Melui tiptoed over the rocks to where Gandalf stood, holding a large book engraved with markings of elves, men, and dwarves. The leather casing was elaborate, but worn. The markings could no longer be distinguished without proper lighting. Melui glanced at the book, her child, and then up at the wizard. _

_"I wish," she murmured quietly. "That there was some other way."_

_Gandalf smiled sadly. "As do I, mellon, as do I."_

_Melui nodded, kissing the baby's head softly, for this was a mother who knew she would ever again see her child she had carried, bathed, nursed, and loved. _

_Gandalf opened the book, muttering a few words in Sindarin until the pages lit into a fluorescent blue._

_"We shall meet again, little one" she whispered against the forehead of her child. _

_Gandalf looked on, his eyes saddened and face weary. "She will be in good hands, mellon. I will take care of her. When she returns, she will be ready for anything that may cross her path. She will grow up beautifully, with charm, independence, and grace. I am sure of it."_

* * *

"Yesssss, I would love a cuppa tea...nooo, Scooby Doo ate all the pies..."a small, sleeping woman mumbled, drooling a bit on her pillow. Snoring softly, she rolled to the end of her mattress, hanging her small hand off the side.

The night was quiet. A full moon hung low in the sky, illuminating the small apartment buildings of New York. The only sound to be heard in the young woman's flat was her incoherent babbling and the hum of the refrigerator in the small kitchen.

That is, until a sharp knock on the wooden door interrupted the serene setting.

The woman sat up immediately. She breathed heavily, spitting out loose pieces of hair that got caught on her tongue. She stared straight into the darkness, curious and the slightest bit afraid. After growing up in New York for the entirety of her life, she had learned quickly to never quite trust what could be on the other side of a door. The constant battle between friendly pizza man or dangerous robber posing as a pizza man was inescapable in the big city.

When the sharp rap came again, she made her move. Pulling a sweater with a hole in the pocket over her "Back To The Future" t-shirt, she quietly slipped her hand under her bed, retrieving an old wooden baseball bat that she had stolen from the gym equipment when she was in middle school.

Her footsteps were soft against the creaky hardwood, nearly nonexistent in sound. She moved at a frustratingly slow speed for a usually fast-paced person, but knew that if she moved too hastily, it may make her predicament much more dangerous on her behalf.

Breathing deeply through her mouth, the woman flicked the lock and chain with one swift motion. Placing her hand on the handle, she waited a heartbeat or two before swinging open the door, bat clutched in her right hand.

What was waiting for her on the other side, however, was not a pizza man poser.

Instead, it was grey wizard with a pointed hat and a twisted walking stick.

"Ah, hello, Estella," Gandalf greeted, bobbing his head with a happy smile on his withered face.

The woman, Estella, sighed in relief. "Good lord, Gandalf, you scared me half to death. Do you not comprehend that it is 2 in the morning? There is a such thing as sleeping, you know."

"Terribly sorry for the disturbance," Gandalf smirked wryly. "But I am looking for someone to share in an adventure."

Behind him, a man with shaggy dark hair and a scruffy face scuffed his boots against the hardwood floors. He hooked his hands on his hips, absorbing his surroundings with a watchful eye. Gandalf's smile remained on his face, as if unaffected by the man who stood right behind him.

Estella's eyes widened, her gaze shifting from one man to the other. "No."

"Oh come now, that is no way to treat old friends," Gandalf waved her aside, pushing the door open and striding past a helpless Estella. The man followed the grey wizard into the flat, nodding and giving the defeated woman with a bat loosely hanging in her hand a small smile.

"You've redecorated," Gandalf commented, sitting in the barstool of the small island.

"Yes," Estella replied slowly. She flicked the kitchen light on and pulled the door to the refrigerator open, setting the bat on the counter. "Can I get you anything?"

"I would not refuse a cup of juice."

Estella rolled her eyes and pulled the orange juice out of the fridge while muttering to herself. "Of course you do. Chugs down ale like nobody's business but has a juice addiction."

Pulling the glass out of her barren cupboards and pouring the juice, Estella glanced up at the man awkwardly standing in the corner.

"What is this about, Gandalf?" she asked in a slightly exasperated tone, sliding the juice over the counter to her friend.

Gandalf took a big swig of juice, draining half the glass. "This, Estella, is war."

"War for what?" she interrogated, somewhat confused.

"For our home," the man in the corner said. Estella's head swiveled to him, furrowing her dark eyebrows. "For Middle Earth."

Over his juice glass, Gandalf raised his eyebrows, waiting for the young woman's reaction. Her face, however, stayed neutral.

"I am not a child anymore, Gandalf," she said, turning back to the wizard. "You cannot expect me to uproot all my years of school and all my hard work to stay remotely stable. I have a job, and grad school, Gandalf. And a roof over my head. I may have been more eager when I was 18, but I am 23. You cannot expect me—"

The wizard slammed his glass on the counter, abruptly silencing Estella's explanation. "And you won't give all of that up to go home? What happened Stella? What happened to the curious child who begged me to take her when I left that pathetic excuse for a children's home? Where did she go?" Estella's eyes shifted to the ground. "We are in dark times. Both this world and Middle Earth will perish if we do not succeed in this journey."

Estella stared at her friend for a long, hard moment before sighing helplessly. "What do you need?"

"Aragorn," Gandalf spoke, not taking his hardened stare off of the girl. "I do not think we were all properly acquainted. My apologies."

"No matter, Gandalf. You have your reasons, I trust," Aragorn nodded, stepping forth and giving Estella a small bow. "My Lady..."

"Estella. But you may feel free to call me Stella. Pleasure, Lord Aragorn." Stella bobbed in a curtesy.

"Aragorn is Ranger known by the name of Strider. He is also the heir of Gondor," Gandalf commented, lighting his long pipe. Stella wrinkled her nose at the smell, for she thought it was quite unpleasant.

"Gandalf said we must seek your help, for it will be a long and difficult journey, and I understand he has trained you well in the languages and customs of Middle Earth," Aragorn clasped his hands behind his back respectfully.

"Yes, he has taught me everything from Sindarin to how to cast a spell that puts even the worst insomniac to sleep," Stella nodded, giving Aragorn a slight side smile. Gandalf puffed smoke from his pipe, refraining from chuckling.

"If you are as good as the grey wizard claims you to be, I would be happy for you to accompany me on this quest. Although, he has but one request," Aragorn smiled.

"What's that?"

"He asked if I would be so kind as in to train you in combat, for we need a little more than words to win a battle," the scruffy Ranger explained.

"Of course," Stella murmured softly in agreement.

"What shall it be, Estella?" Gandalf finally said, blowing another ring of smoke from his pipe.

Stella tapped her fingers on the counter and narrowed her eyes in concentration. The last time she had seen Gandalf, he had stopped by and stayed only for a good twelve hours before he wandered off again. His visits became shorter and shorter through the years, and Stella knew something was wrong, but also knew better than to question it. Now he comes to her door, asking her to come with him, to his land, far, far away? Granted it was also her birthplace and home for a short time, but that was all she knew about her past history with Middle Earth. Could she really uproot herself entirely, just to go on a quest she does not know if she will return from? Was it all worth it?

'_Of course it is worth it,_' a voice inside of her head argued. _'You get to go home. God forbid you ever felt comfortable here. You can go to your home, save innocent lives, and possibly find a family. Your family_.'

Stella's stomach flipped at the thought. Having her own family? That was something she only dreamed about when she was a child. And even now...

Stella held her chin high, meeting Gandalf and Aragorn's expecting eyes.

"Well?" she inquired."When do we start?"

* * *

The first thing that came to Stella's mind when she opened her eyes was how she really wanted pizza.

The second was that her head felt like a thousand arrows pierced her skull at close range.

Groaning, Stella clutched her head. She didn't remember much after she stepped through the portal cleverly disguised as a book. However, as the trees above her became less like fuzzy blotches against the sky, bits and pieces started to fall into place. Pulling out her Middle Earthen clothing she received on her eighteenth birthday, strapping on her boots, running through the blue mass of a portal, and Gandalf's knowing grin the entire time these events occurred.

_Gandalf_.

Easing herself into a sitting position, Stella's head swiveled around in search of her old friend and Aragorn, the future king of Gondor. She recognized nothing, other than trees, leaves, and brush.

"Figures. Always late," she muttered, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her eyes and slowly pushing herself up so that she was on her feet. Stella adjusted her heavy cloak that hung lopsided on her shoulder and stumbled forward a few paces to the glowing blue book.

She leaned on a rock to regain what was lost of her balance while a quiet buzz erupted from the illuminated object and Aragorn was thrusted from the pages, flying into mid air. He landed with a 'thud' and a few Sindarin curses.

Stella looked over her shoulder at the the rugged man. "Y'alright, Lord Aragorn?"

"Oh, please," the Ranger groaned, stumbling to his feet. "Just Aragorn. I have a lingering feeling that we will be aquatinted for a while. That, and I do not particularly enjoy such formalities."

Stella laughed, shaking her head. At the sight of the puzzled look on Aragorn's face, she repressed a smile. "I apologize. I'm not laughing at you...it's just, you're the future leader of Gondor, yet you do not like formalities. It just strikes me as odd."

Aragorn nodded before standing and offering his hand to her. She placed her long fingers on his and he hoisted her from her perch on the rock. "It will take some getting used to, that is for certain."

Stella hummed in acknowledgement to his response, right as Gandalf flew from the pages of the buzzing book. He stumbled and flopped on his rear, grumbling to himself.

"Never like that dratted form of transportation," he muttered, gathering his cloaks and leaning upright on his stick. "Too rough and pushy."

"You'd loath the subway then," Stella smirked, while Aragorn knitted his brow.

"Sub...way?" he questioned, obviously not familiar with the word and it's meaning. Stella, however, patted his shoulder in mock sympathy while uttering a "Nevermind".

Gandalf let out a low, short chuckle before reaching out a withered hand to touch the side of Stella's head, right where her ear was. He hummed approvingly.

"What?" Stella's eyes widened. "What is it?"

"Nothing, young one, nothing at all. You have just seemed to take your true form when you crossed the portal from your world," he said, withdrawing his hand and giving her a nod.

Stella lifted a hesitant hand up to her ears, expecting to feel the usual rounded edge of her ear or at least a small cut from her nasty fall. However, instead of the round cartilage, her ear was pointed. Stella's eyes widened further as she brought her other hand up as well and felt the sharply edged points.

"Gandalf, what—," she breathed.

"I have told you many times before, you are of Middle Earthen blood. You are just not entirely the race you believed to be of," the wizard said in his usual philosophical manner.

"Am I...am I an elf? Like in the stories you told me?" the still quite shell-shocked girl asked, continuing to rub the tips of her ears. She had always loved the languages Gandalf had taught her, the small presents he brought from her homeland, but most of all, she loved the stories. Stubborn, loyal dwarves fighting a dragon to take back their kingdom, eagles flying far above the golden trees, and the elves healing the sick and triumphing over their enemies.

"Indeed," the grey wizard's eyes twinkled with mirth. "Now, down to aspect of the upmost importance—the quest. I shall send word when I need you both. However, from now on, Aragorn shall be training you, Estella. Work hard, fight hard. You will need it when the time comes."

Stella nodded, hardened determination on her face. She had succeeded her old friend this far, she was not about to let him down now.

"When shall you send word, Mirthrandir? How long do I have to prepare her?" Aragorn questioned as Gandalf whistled to a white horse in the brush that Stella had not noticed before.

"Only time will tell," the old wizard answered, petting the nose of his steed. "But look out for her, for she has not truly experienced this world yet. It is best to stick together at all times."

Aragon gave a slight incline of his head in acknowledgement to the older man's words. "Farewell, old friend. Until we meet next."

"It will be sooner than you think, my friends," Gandalf responded, laying a hand on Stella's shoulder. "Farewell."

"Travel safely, Gandalf," Stella spoke softly. "Until next time."

And with that, the grey wizard mounted his horse and rode off, looking back only once to shoot them a small, reassuring smile.

Stella couldn't tell who it was meant to reassure; them or him.

* * *

**Annnnnnnnnnnnd, end chapter one!**

**Thanks for reading! **

**Since this is just getting started, this may be a little slow, but by at least chapter 3 or 4 it will start to pick up (hopefully).**

**I have a lot of good things in store for this...but you'll just have to wait and seeeeeee!**

**Catch ya on the flip side ;)**

**-Halesie**


	2. Meeting The Hobbits

**_Hello again!_**

**_So, I think Chapter On went well, no? A little bit of Stella, a little bit of everyone's favorite Ranger, and a little bit of Gandalf (more like a lottle bit, really)._**

**_Okay, let's get down to business...to defeat the Huns._**

**_Just kidding. For real, though, I would once again like to thank Jo for reading this and telling me I have to keep writing because she wants to know what happens. And telling me I'm wrong most times. That helps a lot._**

**_Also, thank you to Fantasy1602 for being my first reviewer. That means a lot man :)_**

**_ON WITH THE STORY_**

**_Disclaimer: I do not own anything in or pertaining to 'The Hobbit' or 'The Lord of The Rings'. _**

* * *

_3 years later_

Mud stuck to the bottom of Estella's tall boots as she trudged through Bree, hood concealing her face and hand hooked on her sword. She wrinkled her nose at the smell of unwashed men and horse feces. Stella still did not understand Gandalf's reasoning of sending her and Aragorn to this sloppy town with even sloppier weather.

As she reached_ 'The Prancing Pony'_, her nimble feet allowed her to maneuver her way through the drunks and curious stares to where her partner sat against the wall, smoking his pip with a cup next to his elbow. To any other person in the room, he may have looked like he did not care what business went on in the tavern, but to her, he looked like he was ready for a fight.

Stella slid into her seat across from him and spoke to him in Sindarin._ "He has not arrived yet."_

Aragon set his pipe down on the sticky wooden table, rubbing his chin._ "I cannot seem to understand why the wizard would tell us to meet, and not show up."_

_"He must have his reasons,"_ Stella said, waving her hand at the tavern keeper to order a cup of ale. The older man set her mug on the table and left without a word. Stella smirked at this, for she knew that everyone there was wary of her and her partner. _"We just need to wait, mellon."_

Aragorn hummed in response and puffed out a cloud of smoke with a watchful eye on everyone in the tavern. He looked as if he was calculating every little thing in the room, from the too-loud inhabitants to the ale itself. Stella had seen this look plenty of times before, and did not worry in the slightest. If he saw something unusual, he would alert her calmly before beginning a further investigation.

Stealing a chunk of bread off of Aragorn's plate, Stella's ears perked up at every little noise. Her elvish hearing was quite handy at making her alert in times of need, however, when she laid to rest at night, even the slightest noise could keep her from getting any sleep. Stella wiped her fingers on her leather riding pants and sipped the stale drink, peering at each person carefully.

Over her cup, Stella's eyes widened as she caught something that was by far the most unusual thing she has seen yet.

"Aragorn," she hissed, wondering if he just saw what she did. A small man, probably a halfling, was boisterously waving his drink and talking loudly.

"Baggins! Frodo Baggins! Why he's my friend over there," the young blonde hobbit pointed behind him to a darker haired hobbit, who scrambled out of his seat. However, the man didn't get far, for when he tried to pull his drunken friend away, he tripped over his large feet and collapsed, disappearing into thin air.

Or so everyone thought.

The Ranger and the young elvish woman sprang from their seats. Aragorn rushed forward just as the dark haired hobbit reappeared. Snatching the front of the small man's cloak, Aragorn growled.

"You draw too much attention to yourself," hissed the Ranger. "Especially with that object you carry."

The dark haired hobbit stuttered what sounded like an apology, but Aragorn turned away, hands still clutched in the Ring-bearer's cloak. He gave a slight incline of his head to his companion, a silent message to snatch up the other halflings.

With one swift motion, Stella clutched the hoods of each halfling's cloaks and dragged them up the stairs after Aragorn and into the empty inn room the Ranger and the elf purchased for the night.

"Oi, you! Let us go!" the drunken blonde hobbit with a narrow face snapped, trying desperately to bat Stella's hands away.

Stella rolled her eyes. "Oh please. We are not the people attempting to bring harm upon you or your friends."

"Then who are you?" the chubbier blonde one asked skeptically.

Over the hobbit's heads, Stella and Aragorn glanced at each other in uncertainty. Before either one could answer, however, the Ring-bearer spoke cautiously.

"You're Strider and Chaos," the hobbit shifted his big, hairy feet nervously and cleared his throat.

"I—I asked the tavern keeper."

Stella peeled her hood away from her face and gave the hobbit a warm smile. "Very good, young Master Hobbit."

"Frodo Baggins, ah, Miss Chaos," Frodo said, giving a little bow in her direction. She inclined her head in return.

"But—but," one of the blonde hobbits stuttered. "You're a—a woman!"

"Indeed," Stella said, repressing the urge to laugh at his bewilderedness.

The narrow faced hobbit stepped forward and bowed lowly. "Pippin Took, at your service, miss."

Stella smiled as Pippin elbowed his shocked friend and hissed. "Show the lady some respect Merry."

"Ah, right," Merry said, composing himself, and bowing just like his friend did. "Merry Brandybuck, miss. And that's Samwise. But we just call him Sam."

Merry pointed to the chubbier hobbit who was whispering intently to Frodo. His face was stoic an completely unaware his name had been mentioned.

"It is a pleasure, Pippin Took and Merry Brandybuck," Stella bowed in return, moving away from the four small men and over to her companion who stood by the window with his watchful eye.

_"They are not safe here, Stella,"_ Aragorn spoke softly in Sindarin._ "The Nazgûl are after Frodo. We must move quickly."_

Stella nodded, her warm smile gone and a solemn look in it's place. "We need a diversion. Something to get them out of here."

_"And go where?"_ the Ranger questioned, not prying his eyes from the window.

_"Somewhere where they will be safe_," Stella murmured._ 'Somewhere where they can be taken care of' _she thought.

"_Rivendell_."

Aragorn's eyes flicked from the window and onto her face. "It is nearly a two day journey."

"_Then we ride fast,"_ Stella said, determined. "Think about it mellon. We cannot take them anywhere else. And they have come too far to turn back now."

Her friend stared at her hardened face with it's high cheekbones, lightly freckled nose, and stormy cerulean eyes set with dark rings. She had become much more than his friend over the year they had been traveling together, more like a sister he never had, but solely wished he did. He cared for her as any older brother would, reprimanding her if she hurt herself by doing things he told her not to and sending menacing glares at the men who would dare lay a slimy finger on her. He would go to great lengths to make sure is this elven girl was safe.

_"To Rivendell it is,"_ he complied while her face split into a grin. He suspected that, no matter how big her heart was, helping the young hobbits was not all the reason she wanted to ride to Rivendell. The Ranger knew she was restless for her birthplace, so she may discover more about her family and consult with Lord Elrond about the matter. But he did not question her motives, for he knew even if she has her personal ideas, she would protect these hobbits with her life anyway.

Stella squeezed Aragorn's hand in a silent 'thank you' before turning back to the now sleepy hobbits.

"You all must be tired," the young woman said, smiling down at them. "Please, make yourselves comfortable. My companion and I will take care of everything. You will be safe tonight."

Pippin let out a large yawn. "Thank you, Miss Chaos. I don't suppose a short nap would hurt."

As Pippin and Merry stretched out on one of the beds, Sam narrowed his eyes up at the elvish lady. "Aren't you going to sleep?"

"I am afraid not tonight, Master Samwise. You see, I have an awful habit of talking in my sleep," Stella smirked, patting his shoulder lightly.

Sam gave her one last scrutinizing glance before turning and settling in the bed next to Pippin and Merry.

Frodo looked wide-eyed up at her. "Do you really?"

"Perhaps," she shot him a little wink Gandalf would sometimes give her when he shares one of his little secrets, such as his favoring of walnut bread and bumbleberry jam. Frodo smiled happily up at her.

"Ah. Goodnight then, Miss Chaos," Frodo said, sliding into bed with his friends. Stella's smile lingered until she was certain he could not see her, and her face dropped.

"_Mellon_," she whispered in Sindarin to her friend by the window._ "We need a plan. Now."_

* * *

The Nazgûl's earth-shattering shrieks rang through Bree, echoing off the walls.

The hobbits shot up in their beds, alarmed by the sudden noise. Stella, who was in a soft conversation in elvish with Aragorn, froze, her blood running cold.

"They have found the trap," Aragorn muttered. "We need to move. Now."

The elf girl nodded, crossing to the ends of the beds in two long strides. Pressing her index finger on her lips as a signal to keep quiet, she took the cloaks hanging on the bedposts and tossed them at the half-awake hobbits.

"Come with me," Stella whispered, moving carefully over the creaky floor and to the door. She flicked up her hood and peered out into the halls of the inn. The only light was the candles along the walls, dimly casting elongated shadows on the rough carpets.

With a flick of her wrist, she pulled out her bow and arrows she had securely stored in a nook under the wardrobe as soon as she and Aragorn had reached the inn. Stella stepped first, observing the halls before taking another careful step. With a nod of her head, the hobbits followed her lead, wary of where they placed their feet to prevent any sound emitting from the old wooden floors. The four hobbits and the elf slipped down the stairwell quietly and turned down the other hall to where the back door was placed.

"Ah," Pippin whispered. "Miss Chaos?"

"Please Pippin, just call me Stella. I have a feeling we will be around each other for a very long time, so there is no use for formalities," Stella replied softly, her eyes peering around every nook and cranny until the reached the door.

"Oh, ah, right. Miss Stella, where are we going exactly?" Pippin questioned a little too loudly, earning a few glares and one annoyed "shhhh!" from a companion behind him.

"Somewhere where you all will be safe from the Nazgûl," Stella answered, pushing open the door to the back alley with the side of her shoulder. "Come. We must get to Weathertop."

Lead by the hooded elf woman, the four hobbits trekked through the mud and woods, hiding in shadows of large trees. Frodo, who was directly behind Stella, admired how nimble she was on her feet. It was like the ground was never there at all, like she was walking on thin air. He wondered if all elves were like this.

He so very much wanted to find out.

A few hours later, when the noon sun shone overhead, the companions wandered upon a clearing with little brush and some wildflowers. There, under the shadow of a tall pine, was Aragorn and two horses. As they approached, he uncovered his face and finished tying the reins to the tree, rushing to his elvish partner.

"You made it," he said, breathing a sight of relief.

"You sound worried, mellon," Stella grinned, causing the man to roll his eyes.

"I always worry about you." Aragorn teased, smirking in the"older brother knows best" way he tends to do when he knows he's right.

"Oh, pish," Stella waved her hand dismissing the teasing comment. "You hardly ever need to."

Aragorn clasped her shoulders and grinned, knowing he was correct. Stella, although a very good fighter and extremely skilled at maneuvering in high or small places, was somewhat reckless in combat, living up to her given name, "Chaos". This was almost a warning to anyone who crossed her path.

The Ranger released her shoulders, and regained a serious look on his face. "We will reach Rivendell in about a day or two. But for now, we must seek shelter in Weathertop. It will bring us closer, so when we continue our journey tomorrow, we will have enough strength and speed to reach our destination."

Stella nodded in agreement, whistling to her chocolate brown steed, Firverior, with his black leather reins and glossy mane. She pet her horse's nose with one hand, and with the other, she retrieved an apple from her satchel. Aragorn watched in amusement as she fed Firverior, murmuring in words in Sindarin.

"You always spoil him," the Ranger stated, chuckling under his breath.

"I like to think of it as a little motivation for the long road ahead," Stella grinned, turning from her horse to the hobbits, who looked tired but very anxious by the way they were shifting their feet impatiently.

"Merry, Pippin, Frodo, Sam," Stella called, getting their attention in seconds. "Come. You will ride the horses while Aragorn and I will walk along side to ensure your safety."

With there nods of consent, Stella took Merry by his armpits and hoisted him onto Firverior, and then turned to a very reluctant Pippin.

"Verry is a good, trustworthy horse, Pippin. He nor I will let you fall, I promise," Stella reassured, taking Pippin under his arms and propping him in front of Merry. The young hobbit gripped the reins tightly, his face as white as a sheet.

Merry patted his friend's shoulder. "He'll be alright. Just a lil' scared of horses. He does much better on ponies."

Stella smiled warmly, turning to face Aragorn, who had lifted Frodo and Sam onto his own horse. With a subtle nod, the two lead the horses and hobbits through the trees, not quite sure what to expect just yet.

The forest wasn't very thick, but it was enough to conceal the travelers from anyone who may have wanted to harm them. Along the way, Stella would get antsy from walking at the same pace for a long amount of time and Aragorn would just silently move next to her and take the reins. She would glance at him in a silent thanks, and take a running leap to trees, scurrying up swiftly and easily.

"Where is Miss Stella going?" Merry questioned, looking up into the leaves of the trees.

"She is scouting ahead," Aragorn answered simply. He did not mention that Stella's attention span does not last very long without a change in pace, for he was uncertain how much her personal life she was willing to share with their new companions.

"Scouting ahead for what?" Frodo asked quietly.

"For anything that would wish to put you in harm's way," Aragorn said, gripping the reins a little tighter and giving Frodo a slight smile of reassurance. However, as skilled as Aragorn and Stella were, the Ranger couldn't help but worry for their safety, especially after the attack of the Nazgûl in Bree.

The horses and Aragorn continued on further for about another hour or two, until a rustling came from the trees above them. The company stopped abruptly and the Ranger drew his sword, bracing himself for what could come.

The rustling disappeared as quickly as it had come, and Stella popped out of the green leaves, landing on her feet without stumbling forward.

"Weathertop is through here, about four trees over. It is growing dark, and it will be night soon. We should hurry and make camp," she reported, striding over to her horse and retrieving the reins from Aragorn.

The pair continued leading the horses until they reached the outskirts of a large stone setting, almost castle-like in appearance, with crumbling bricks and caved in structures. Stella helped Pippin and Merry off Firverior, while Aragorn lifted Frodo and Sam.

"The four of you set up camp and get some rest in a cavern. No one can see you," Aragorn instructed. "Stella and I will keep watch."

The small beings nodded wearily, trekking up the stoney pathways and to the higher point of the large stone structure. Aragorn turned to Stella, offering her a friendly smile, even though it was laced with concern.

"You were gone longer than usual in those trees," Stella's Ranger friend said, more of a statement than a question.

"Yes," she answered solemnly. "It's becoming darker, mellon. The trees have less light than before."

Aragorn nodded in agreement. "Indeed. We must be more careful. Especially if Frodo is in possession of the Ring."

Stella was about to answer when a yawn cut her reply off entirely. Aragorn's grave seriousness disappeared for a fleeting moment and was replaced with childlike amusement.

"Go and rest," he said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "I will wake you if there is trouble."

"I'll hear trouble before I hear you," Stella muttered, yawning yet again.

Aragorn pushed her shoulder away from him, biting back a grin. "Go. You need your sleep."

She didn't protest as she curled up in a small alcove with a blanket from her pack, completely shielded from the outside world. For a moment, she was just traveling with Aragorn and sleeping under the night sky with no rings or hobbits or the ever so possible chance at sudden death at any waking moment.

That is, until the shriek of the Nazgûl broke through the night like shattered glass.

* * *

**_Thanks for reading! _**

**_So...what'dya think will happen, hm?_**

**_Will they live, will they die...? The expectancy of spontaneous and extremely painful deaths is quite...imminent in Middle Earth._**

**_Anyway, Read and Review! _**

**_Catch ya on the flip side ;)_**

**_\- Halesie_**


	3. The Much Desired Arrival To Rivendell

**Hello Hello Hello!**

**Few things before you read: **

**1) To tell the truth, I'm not crazy about this chapter. I've rewritten this a few times and this is the closest I could get without disliking it too much. BUT, never fear, chapter four is jam packed.**

**(spoiler alert: Legolas, Gimli, and Boromir are introduced...)**

**And 2) I don't think I've ever gave a heads up, but the italics means that the characters are speaking elvish (except for some obvious occasions). I believe Sindarin was spoken with Aragorn and Stella in chapter 2, but I thought I say something.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned this...but, in reality, I totally don't. **

* * *

Stella felt like she was moving through a pool of Jell-O.

It did not help that her exhaustion lead her to sleep like a baby and caused her to awake in a groggy state of mind. Aragorn was no where to be seen, and she was vaguely aware of the yelps of the hobbits on the upper levels of Weathertop.

_The hobbits_.

Cursing in Sindarin, Stella scrambled to her feet, stumbling up rocky paths to where the sounds of fear and possible pain were located. Once she got up to the top most level, however, she was a little too late. Aragorn, armed with only a flaming torch, was battling the Nazgûl, while three blonde hobbits were leaning over Frodo.

Rushing to their sides, Stella kneeled to take a look at Frodo's pale face, filled with anguish. "What happened?"

Her question came out as a sharp demand, and Merry flinched slightly at the tone. For a split second, she felt badly, but then remembered that Frodo was in danger and this was no time for niceties.

"He got stabbed. By that...hooded thing's sword!" Sam stuttered, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. Frodo groaned in pain, clutching his shoulder.

Stella gently removed the injured hobbit's hand that was covering his wound and cursed under her breath at the sight of it. "His wound is severe. We need to get him away from here."

Carefully, Stella lifted the hobbit onto her back, making sure she did not jostle him that much. Swiftly making her way down the rocky paths, her small friends in tow, she passed every rocky level until her feet were planted on firmly on the ground.

"We must get to the forest," Stella shouted behind her. The horses were gone but that did not stop the elf from pushing onward. She sprinted across the fields of grass and short brush, her long legs carrying her further than her companions.

Shifting Frodo's arms around her neck, she turned to the hobbits racing across the field, about fifty meters away. Frodo groaned and Stella cupped a hand around her mouth, yelling at the top of her lungs to Merry, Pippin, and Sam.

"Hurry! We don't have much time!"

The party stumbled deeper into the wood. When they got to a small clearing, Stella laid Frodo on the ground to examine his split shoulder. However, she did not get a chance, for hurried footsteps and crackles of broken twigs came from behind the group. Stella stood in her protective stance and notched an arrow in her bow.

To their great relief, Aragorn sprinted through the brush, sweaty and breathing hard.

"Thank God," Stella breathed, lowering her bow. Aragorn stumbled forward, slinging an arm around her shoulder in a tight side embrace. She let him lean on her until he eased himself next to a moaning Frodo.

Stella rushed to the hobbit's side, examining the wound again. Her face grew even darker than before.

"He's poisoned," Stella shook her head sadly. Aragorn stared at her hopeless face before hopping to his feet and grabbing Sam by the shoulder.

"You're a gardener," Aragorn said fiercely. "Do you know what kingsfoil is?"

"Yes," Sam said, confused. "That's a weed."

The Ranger shook his head. "Right now, it is the only thing that will save him. Find some!"

Sam took off, stumbling over his big feet. Aragorn went in the opposite direction, but not before instructing Merry and Pippin to assist Stella in anything she needed. The elf girl placed a soothing hand on the forehead of the hysterically sobbing Frodo and murmured healing spells in every tongue she knew. Pippin and Merry anxiously looked on, not quite sure what to do.

When Frodo started writhing in pain, Stella called to the worried hobbits. "Hold him down! He's going to hurt himself even more!"

The startled Merry and Pippin hurried forward, gripping each side of their injured friend's body just as Aragorn burst through the brush. In his hand was a little bunch of greens spattered with tiny white flowers.

"Athelas," Stella breathed, reaching for the plant in Aragorn's hand. She crushed the greens with a rock by her ankle and spread the paste onto Frodo's shoulder, his cries increasing in volume. "We must get him to Rivendell."

"Indeed. He is fading fast," a silky feminine voice spoke from where Aragorn stood. Stella whipped around. She had not heard that voice in seven months and she had not realized it until now, but she had missed it's calming touch.

"Arwen," the she smiled, although it did not quite reach her eyes.

"Mellon," Arwen responded, sending her friend a reassuring nod. Arwen kneeled before the form of the pained hobbit before continuing. "He needs to see my father. I will take him."

"That is much too dangerous," Aragorn protested, stepping forward as if he wanted to hold her close and not let go, despite being in mortal danger. However, he settled with a hand on her shoulder and it took all Stella's effort not to notice her friend's protective stare.

Arwen stood, facing Aragorn. "We both know I am the faster rider. And once I pass the river, the magic of my people will protect me."

The Ranger opened his mouth to protest again, but Stella cut his reply short. "Aragorn, we need to save Frodo as soon as possible and we're still a good two days away. Arwen is faster and she knows more about healing than you and I do. She can keep him safe."

Her rugged male friend nodded in agreement, but did not look happy about the ladies' decision. Arwen swept over the dead leaves and mounted her horse. Aragorn and Stella hoisted Frodo in front of her in the saddle, his head lolling forward.

"Arwen," Aragorn murmured, casting his gaze on Arwen's porcelain face. She looked at him softly, yet expectantly. He seemed to have trouble forming words, until he averted his gaze and spoke again. "Ride fast."

She nodded, sending him one last warm smile before snapping her reins and galloping off into the night.

* * *

"Are we there yet?" an impatient Merry questioned for the fiftieth time that day. Sam smacked the blonde hobbit on the arm. After nearly a two day travel with only a few hours rest each night and the constant worry about their friend Frodo, the companions were getting restless.

"Almost," said Stella, smiling to herself in amusement at Aragorn's overly dramatic eye roll. She nudged her friend's shoulder gently, catching his attention.

"What?" Aragorn asked, shooting her a suspicious glance. For the past few days since Frodo's injury and the arrival of Arwen, the Ranger had been getting nothing but knowing smirks from his odd elven friend. However, when he asked what exactly she was smirking about, her answers were vague and dismissive.

Stella smiled teasingly. "Ride fast? Is that the best you could come up with?"

Aragorn's eyes widened a fraction of an inch before he looked away. "I don't know what you're talking about, mellon."

"Oh, I think you do," Stella pushed, grinning wider and turning away from him to face the path in front of her. "I do not understand as to why you don't just tell her you love her. I mean, she obviously loves you too and you aren't going to live forever. I say do it as soon as we get to Rivendell. That way, you can be married by morning and live a wonderful life with all your sappy puppy dog eyes and heated, passionate kissing."

"What?" The Ranger asked, whipping his head around to face her and her devilish grin. He felt his face heat up and hoped it wasn't too noticeable. His obvious discomfort would only give her more to tease him with.

"I'm just saying," Stella shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant, while inside, she was rolling with laughter. "I just don't understand why you two aren't, ah, _courting_ yet."

Aragorn coughed uncomfortably. "It—it would never work. She is of elven blood, and I am human. Her people would never allow it. And she...she is much too beautiful to love a man like myself."

The elf girl laughed. "Are you really that insecure about yourself to not declare your affections to the person you love most? Especially if they love you too?"

The rugged man shot her a sly grin, as if he knew something she did not.

"You'll understand some day."

Stella's triumphant smirk fell off her lips into a scowl. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

"Look," Aragorn said, completely ignoring her question that earned him an angry glare. "We have arrived."

The put-out elven girl grumbled at her smiling friend. She did not tend to get many opportunities to tease Aragorn, and she was quite upset he had cut her fun short.

However, as she looked out upon the beauty and serenity of Rivendell, she no longer cared. From up on the horses, Pippin, Merry, and Sam gasped in wonder. A feeling of relief washed over her. Stella smiled to herself happily, savoring the fragrant smells and warm breeze.

Tugging on the reins of Firverior, she started down the path towards the large, elaborate buildings and beautifully sculpted gardens. She fought hard to contain her excitement as she gripped the reins a little tighter. She thought of the training grounds, the warm herb-filled baths, and the kind elven people. Her stomach did somersaults. The last time she was here, Lord Elrond had promised her that the next visit Stella and Aragorn make, he would help her find everything he could about her family. The very thought made her internally squeal.

It felt like a thousand years to get to the archway of Rivendell. When they neared, Lord Elrond stepped forward to greet the travelers, a warm smile apparent on his never-aging face. To his left, Arwen's eyes shifted over all the members of the group and lingered on the tall and scruffy man who was using everything in his power to not glance at the elven beauty. However, his resistance failed him when he rested his eyes on her and could not seem to pull himself away.

"Welcome, my friends," Lord Elrond greeted, spreading his arms out wide.

Aragorn and Stella bowed gracefully before lifting each hobbit off their steeds. Merry, Pippin, and Sam mimicked their friends' respectful gestures to the elf lord.

As they straightened, Lord Elrond continued speaking. "I believe you have been on a long journey. Come, we will show you where you can rest."

Five elven servants stepped forward and Stella was pleased to see her friend and elf maid, Minuial, take her arm, smiling. The elf maid had not changed much, for she still had her long waves of dark hair in intricate braids, her light grey eyes still framed by dark, long lashes, and cheekbones still prominent on her porcelain face. Minuial had been a maid in Rivendell years before Stella had shown up, but when Aragorn brought her here a month after she entered Middle Earth, the elven girls became fast friends.

"Excuse me, Lord Elrond," Sam asked, craning his neck to peer up at the tall elf lord.

"Yes, Master Hobbit?" Lord Elrond replied, clasping his hands in front of him in one smooth gesture.

"I was wondering...has our friend Frodo awoken yet?" Sam asked nervously. He knitted his fingers together while he waited for Lord Elrond's response.

"Indeed he has. And he has been most anxious to see all of you again," the elf lord nodded affirmatively. Merry and Pippin looked at each other with excitement in their eyes and Sam grinned in relief for his friend's safety. "But for now, you will be taken to the baths. After you are clean, you may then see your friend."

The hobbits scampered off, now having a leap in every step they took. Stella and Aragorn let out a small chuckle in unison.

Lord Elrond turned to the amused pair. "You two also need your rest. Tomorrow is a meeting of the council. We do not want you to tire quickly."

"Thank you, my lord," Aragorn bowed and Stella followed his example. The pair started forward, but a hand was placed gently on Stella's arm.

"And I believe Mithrandir would like to talk to you once you are settled," the elf lord said, so soft that only she could hear.

"Of course," Stella answered, bobbing her head and carrying on through the walkway with Minuial at her hip. As soon as the pair of elf girls rounded the corner, Minuial drew her friend into a hug.

_"It is good to see you, mellon,"_ Minuial said in Sindarin, drawing back from the embrace she wrapped Stella in.

The other girl smiled and hugged Minuail again in return._ "It is good to be back. I missed Rivendell."_

_"How long are you staying? Glassada is itching to show you her newly improved skills,_" Minuial grinned, looping her arm through Stella's.

_"I am afraid it may not be very long," _Stella said, her excitement lessening slightly.

_"But why not?"_ Minuial asked quizzically.

_"I don't know. Just a feeling, I suppose," _Stella shrugged.

Minuial rolled her grey irises. _"You and your silly feelings."_

Stella laughed happily as the pair came to a halt in front of an elegantly decorated door. Every time Stella had visited with Aragorn, this room was always the one she picked. Soon, it just became "Stella's chambers" and not a single soul questioned it.

Stella carefully opened the door and stepped into the warm atmosphere of the room. The bed, with a swirling iron headboard was placed against the wall by a window that streamed sunlight onto the marble floor. The wardrobe stood in the corner and an antique desk and chair were adjacent to it, with another window in between. The curtains were a pale white and kissed the floor, fluttering ever so slightly in the light breeze . Stella set her bow and arrows on the dark stained trunk at the foot of her bed and flopped onto the mattress she could've sworn was made of a cloud.

"It's good to be back," Stella sighed happily. And, for a moment, nothing could ever go wrong. Her friend's were safe and her heart was happy.

However, she knew better than to think that for long.

* * *

**I hope you at least kinda liked that.**

**As I said before, Chapter 4 is probably going to be much more entertaining to read. I mean, an axe does fly at someone's head, some seriously serious teasing will occur, and the Ring may or may not get revealed...but I've said too much already :)**

**R&amp;R!**

**Adios :)**

**-Halsie**


	4. The Council of Elrond

**Hello Hello :)**

**Hope you all are doing well! I apologize for the lateness in updates. A lot of writing, rewriting, thinking, bouncing ideas around, and then writing again took a lot of time for this chapter. Spoiler alert, but this is the council scene, so I tried to keep the premise and most of the details in tact, however, I did add some new dialog and actions just to make it so it's not just like the script.**

**Anyhow, thank you again to Jo and all of you who follow, favorite, and review!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own aaaaaanything. **

* * *

It wasn't until the morning of the council meeting that Stella was able to see Gandalf.

After she bathed and redressed, she was immediately caught by a squealing Glassada. The little elfling was so excited to see her friend that she launched herself into Stella's unsuspecting arms, babbling happily. Stella had known Glassada as long as she had known Minuial and had met the young child when she was in training with Aragorn. On her breaks from sword fighting and archery, Stella and Glassada would share bread and cheese while the elleth would teach the child what she learned in lessons that day.

Glassada was wonderfully sweet, with big green eyes, long golden hair, and a small, slightly lifted nose. Her slight, lean body gave her some grace when she absolutely needed it, but, since she was still a child, Glassada was a bit clumsy.

As the impatiently ecstatic elfling dragged Stella to the training grounds, she spoke too quickly to be understood. However, when she finally slowed down, Glassada elaborated on her new archery skills and how she beat her brother at shooting. Her eyes were wild and her hands fluttered like excited butterflies to describe each motion perfectly.

Needless to say, the pair had stayed until the sky grew dark and they were too tired to shoot another arrow.

Now, Stella was lacing up her black riding boots and smoothing out her plum tunic with it's elegantly laced bodice. She debated on strapping on her black chest plate and arm guards, but she decided against it. It was only a council meeting after all. However, that fact did not prevent her from strapping her belted sword over her tunic and leather leggings.

Stella slid down each staircase like she was floating on the wisps of clouds that were suspended over Rivendell. She turned hallway after hallway in search of Frodo's bedchambers. After striding to the proper hall, she turned left and into the first open door. There sat Frodo and Gandalf, the hobbit resting against his headboard and the wizard puffing smoke from his pipe.

Stella beamed at the sight. It had only been three years, but Stella had never gone three years without seeing her old friend at least once. He looked exactly as he did when he galloped off into the woods, leaving her and Aragorn awkwardly standing there until the Ranger pulled her onto his horse to take her to the beautiful Rivendell.

The grey wizard looked up from the smiling hobbit to the elven girl with a happy look on his withered face."I was beginning to think you were not going to show, Estella."

At his words Stella eagerly launched herself forward and wrapped her arms around the wizard's neck. He chuckled, patting her back until she pulled away grinning.

"You have been avoiding me mellon," Stella said flopping down on the bed to scold him teasingly. "It's not nice to avoid old friends."

Gandalf nodded, sucking his pipe with a twinkle in his eye. "Indeed, you are right."

"I usually am," Stella agreed, before swiveling to see a grinning and very much alive Frodo. "And how are you Master Hobbit?"

"Much better, thank you," Frodo replied, inclining his head to her slightly.

"Good," Stella said, standing from the bed and smoothing out the wrinkles in her outfit. "Because I have come to take you to your doom."

Frodo's face dropped and Stella repressed the urge to laugh, keeping her expression painfully serious.

Gandalf, however, just rolled his eyes. "Always the melodramatic one, aren't you Estella?"

Stella grinned happily and a little color came back to the frightened hobbit's face. "Of course. Would you expect nothing less?"

The grey wizard only shook his head in amusement before too standing. "The meeting will begin shortly. We must go and meet our fellow councilmen."

"And woman," Stella pointed out, following Gandalf out the door. Frodo hopped off the bed and scurried to the door, trying to keep up with his long-legged friends as they turned down the corridors.

At the very end of an open marble corridor was a staircase that lead down to a circular marble pathway with chairs lining the edges. Voices could be heard from all the way down the hall, gruff and demanding.

"Gandalf," Stella muttered quietly. "Who exactly got called for the meeting?"

Before Gandalf could reply, an axe flew at her head at an alarming speed. She ducked instinctively, popping back up to shoot her old friend a bewildered stare.

"What the—?" Stella asked, surprised and confused. "Axes...?You don't mean to tell me—".

"That there are dwarves folk present here? Indeed," Gandalf said, a twinkle in his eye and a mischievous smile on his face. A round dwarf with a bushy red beard and clunky metal armor ran up the stairs in the almost waddle-like way his kind usually do, grumbling to himself all the way.

The grey wizard nodded to the red bearded male. "Gimli, it is a pleasure to see you again. How is your father?"

Gimli stopped short and wheezed gruffly. "Ah, Gandalf. He is well. As are you, I trust?"

"Yes, very well indeed," Gandalf answered. Gimli nodded, shoving through the tall wizard and Stella, snarling at her before retrieving his axe at the end of the hall.

Stella blew a loose strand of hair out of her eyes, slightly irritated. "Well, he seems pleasant. I cannot wait to meet the others."

"Dwarves tend to hold long grudges. I would not take it personally," Gandalf reassured, patting Stella on the head. She wrinkled her nose.

"Why don't dwarves like elves?" Frodo asked curiously. The elves were very kind and hospitable, and the young hobbit couldn't quite figure how people, or even an entire race of people, could hate them.

Stella shrugged. "Long and brutal history. Apparently, in the eyes of elves, dwarves are greedy and too stubborn for their own good. And to dwarves, elves are vain and selfish. It's a messy business and a bit unnecessary, if you ask me."

"Unfortunately," Gandalf added, peering down at Frodo. "Not everyone sees it that way."

Frodo stayed silent after that. For a fleeting moment, Stella was concerned they may have spoken out of place, causing some alarm to be risen in the hobbit's thoughts. However, before she could get the chance to reassure him, Gandalf stepped aside to reveal councils of elves, dwarves, and humans, all facing Lord Elrond with expectant looks on their faces.

The participants of the meeting swiveled their heads from Lord Elrond to Gandalf, Stella, and Frodo.

Stella peered past the heads of the elves to where Aragorn sat, whispering to his blonde elven friend in the seat next to him. When he looked up at her, Stella shot him her most devilish side smirk. She had not seen her friend much since they had arrived and she never got the chance to fully tease him about his budding relationship. Aragorn narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the grinning girl. His elven friend turned to see what he was intently staring at, but by that time, Stella was striding over, keeping her face as neutral as possible. When she stood beside Aragorn, he tugged at her arm until her ear was level with his mouth.

_"Who told you_?" he hissed in Sindarin. He did not tell anyone, especially Stella of his evening strolls with Arwen, and he was uncertain on how the girl had received the information. She had been yearning to find something to bother him with, yet he had given her nothing to go on.

_"Told me wha_t?" she asked innocently, schooling her features to be utterly calm and collected

_"About me and...Arwen._"said Aragorn, looking slightly uncomfortable

Stella cast him a triumphant stare, fighting a giggle. "_You just did._"

And, with that, Stella sat in the chair next to Aragorn, straightening her back against the seat. She saw the blonde elf, whom her Ranger friend was conversing with, cast his eyes curiously on her and she shot him a friendly grin. The corner of his lip twitched up, as if he was about to smile back, but Stella had to divert her attention from his face when Lord Elrond cleared his throat.

"Friends," the elf lord began, standing behind a small stone podium that would barely come up to Stella's waist if she were standing. "You have traveled here under terrible circumstances. I wish we were not called together under the impending threat of death and darkness, however, this is of the upmost importance. This, my friends, it about Mordor."

The members of the meeting glanced at each other, some fearful, some confused. Stella knitted her brow together, waiting for Lord Elrond to continue.

"Bring forth the Ring," he said, gesturing to Frodo. The young hobbit hesitantly stood from his chair and placed a small golden trinket in his right hand on the podium. It glinted in the low sun light, tempting and beautiful. The only sound that was heard was the rustling of golden leaves. Even the birds had stopped mid-way into their song.

The Ring seemed to have some sort of trance over everyone in the area. Each person stared at it like they had found the meaning of life in the small object. Stella glanced nervously around at the entranced men. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a man dresses in Gondorian apparel with dirty golden hair stand.

"So it is true," he began. He started forward, breaking everyone out of their entrancement. "The Ring of Power is real."

"Boromir," Gandalf warned. Stella and Aragorn shared a skeptical glance.

"Gondorian blood has been shed for you," Boromir spit out, slowing but surly making rounds, looking each person he passed in the eye. "For all of you. Give the Ring to Gondor. Let us use the power of our enemy against our enemy. Against Sauron!"

Stella could feel the tempers of her fellow council men boil. This man, Boromir, was even causing her blood to run a little too warm and her fingers to tingle a little too much.

"It is not that simple," Stella interrupted, allowing the gazes to flash from Boromir to her. "The Ring of Power is evil. It will corrupt even the strongest of minds. It would kill us all before Sauron could have the chance."

Boromir sneered, causing Stella to go rigid. "And what would you, a woman, possibly know about of the Ring?"

Stella narrowed her eyes. The tingling in her fingertips spread and her blood continued to boil. "I can assure you, I know more than you think."

"She is right, Boromir," Aragorn spoke up, cutting off another snide comment from the Gondorian about the elven girl. "The Ring answers to Sauron alone. No one else can control it's power."

"And you would know any better than the girl, Ranger of the North?" Boromir shook his head, disgusted. Stella pursed her lips, ready to stand and defend her friend from the Gondorian buffoon.

The blonde elf next to Aragorn stood, beating her to the punch. "Do you not know who you are talking to? This is Aragorn, son of Arathorn, and future heir of Gondor. You owe him your allegiance."

Stella stared at the elf in utter disbelief. A smile broke out onto her lips as she suppressed the urge to laugh out loud at Boromir's bewildered face. The elf's features remained neutral, but Stella noticed the minuscule twitch of his lip and knew he was satisfied with Boromir's slightly stunned reaction.

_"Sit down, Legolas_," Aragorn said softly in elvish, placing a hand on his friend's forearm. Legolas sat and Stella averted her gaze to smirk at Boromir, who was still recovering. Aragorn cleared his throat, bringing the attention back into him. "The Ring cannot be possessed, for it is much too dangerous. Like my companion had said earlier, the Ring corrupts anyone, no matter what race they belong to. It must be destroyed at all costs."

"Then, what are we waiting for? A personal invitation?" Gimli shouted. He stomped forward, swinging his axe against the stone podium. However, instead of ruining the golden ring, Gimli's weapon shattered into a thousand tiny pieces. Stella heard Frodo cry out in pain, clutching his head. She hurried over, kneeling by the chair with her hand on his shoulder.

"It is not so easily done, Gimli son of Gloin," Gandalf said, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "The Ring was forged in the fires of Mount Doom and can only be destroyed in the fires from which it was made."

The grey wizard and Lord Elrond shared a knowing look before the elf lord stood from his seat. "Who will be brave enough to take the Ring to Mordor?"

"I will," Boromir replied, a little too eagerly for Stella's comfort. Gimli sprang from his chair as if the bottom of his pants were on fire.

"The Ring must be destroyed. If I recall correctly, you wanted to keep it," The blonde elf, Legolas, said. He stood from his chair powerfully. "It is evil. Did you not hear what the Rangers just spoke of?"

"Then I suppose you want to take it!," the dwarf accused, he too standing. "Never will I live to see that Ring in the hands if you! Never trust an elf!"

The whole council erupted in angry voices, arguing back and forth. Stella, still kneeling by Frodo, scoffed at the sight of the arguing men.

'_Power_,' she though bitterly. '_All they desire is power_.'

The arguing voices were starting to give her a dull ache behind her eye. They all blurred together into angry, incoherent words. She could feel the heat increasing and no matter how she shifted, it would not cease. It made Stella so sick to her stomach, that she almost didn't hear Frodo from where he was sitting right next to her.

"I will take it," Frodo said as loudly as he could, his face strained. Stella stared at the young hobbit's face, so full of concern and innocence. She knew that if he took the Ring to Mount Doom and survived, she may never again see his face the same way.

The elf girl took one last look at Frodo's determined eyes and small face before standing to take a deep breath and clenching her fists to her sides.

"**_QUIET_**," Stella bellowed at the top of her lungs. Almost immediately, the arguing subsided and every pair of eyes swiveled to her, some widened in shock and some in fear.

Stella cleared her throat. "Thank you. Now, if all of you are done acting like immature children, I believe Frodo Baggins was trying to speak but could not be heard over your obnoxious bickering."

Her stern, reprimanding voice caused a few members to look at their feet in shame, but others were too enamored by the enigmatic girl in front of them. Stella smoothed out her tunic and clasped her hands behind her in the most proper way she knew how.

"Carry on Frodo," Stella said, urging him forward with a nod of her head. Frodo snapped out of his stupor and took a shaky breath.

"I said, I will take it. I will take the Ring to Mordor," Frodo said, determinedly. However. after a few heartbeats of silence, Frodo's face visibly dropped. "But...I do not know the way."

Stella looked at Aragorn's knowing expression and a silent agreement was made between them. She turned back to Frodo, a smile blossoming on her angular face. "Then we will show you."

Frodo looked up at the Rangers, smiling gratefully. "Thank you, Miss Stella."

"You have my sword, Frodo Baggins," Aragorn said, kneeling by his elven friend and the hobbit.

"And my bow," Legolas bowed low, laying his beautifully refined bow with delicate carvings and a perfect string in front of him. Behind him, Gimli huffed and rolled his eyes before too kneeling, placing the axe that nearly took off Stella's head at his bent knee.

"And my axe," the red-bearded dwarf said, his voice filled with a gruff of impatience that Stella originally thought was out of anger, but soon realized it was just the way the dwarf spoke. But Frodo paid no mind, for he was too caught up in his state of bliss to pay attention.

Boromir stepped forward, and Stella's organs twisted uncomfortably. Instead of bowing like the others, he inclined his head forward as his sign of respect. "You carry a heavy burden, Frodo Baggins. It would be an honor to accompany you on your long journey."

Stella opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted suddenly by Sam bursting through the bushes, skidding to a halt next to the dark-haired hobbit.

"Frodo's not going anywhere. Not without me," Sam said, puffing his chest out. He stood a little taller and set his jaw.

"And me!" the voice of Merry piped up, he too hurrying over from his spot behind a stone pillar.

"Me too!" Pippin chimed, popping from behind a bush. He scurried over to the nine other participants of the quest, a gleeful smile on his thin face.

To say the very least, Stella was overwhelmed. She did not expect this many people to step forward, especially with the risk of certain death. It made her chest swell with admiration for their bravery, but it also made her heart rise in her throat. They knew they would not survive. They would fight to the death, and even then they may not succeed at stopping Sauron. Stella mentally shook her head, trying to clear the thoughts if inescapable demise and mortal danger away from her mind.

"There we have it. 10 members to defeat Sauron and bring back the safety of Middle Earth," Gandalf said, leaning on his wizard's staff. "The Fellowship of the Ring."

"And so you are correct, Mirthrandir," Lord Elrond spoke, staring at the Fellowship without blinking once. Out of the corner of her eye, Stella saw Boromir shift uncomfortably under the scrutinizing stare of the elf lord.

Pippin cleared his throat. "Well, that's all fine and good. But, ah, one question: where exactly are we going?"

Stella had to press her hand against her mouth to stifle her laughter as every other person in the collective group huffed in exasperation.

Oh, it would be a very long journey indeed.

**What did you think, hmmm?**

**Never fear, there will be some Legolas and Stella scenes where they will be properly introduced. After I wrote this chapter, I told Jo about the meeting between the two elves in the upcoming chapters and tortured her with hints until she read it. **

**Tis fun, tis fun. :)**

**Read and Comment on what you thought!**

**Ciao,**

**-Halesie**


	5. Secrets and Bragging Rights

**Hi!**

**You guys ready for this up and down rollercoaster of Stella's emotions? Not to give much away, but there are some feels here. **

**Yayyyyyyyyyyyyyy :)**

**Another thing, to all who commented: THANK YOU. I cannot express in words how excited and happy I was that some of you were enjoying Stella's story enough to say so. It really made my day.**

**Okay, and one last thing, I PROMISE: I apologize if this chapter seems to be a little short or lacking. Some parts of the ending were accidentally cut and I had to rewrite them from memory before continuing on with uploading.**

**With that said, enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own The Lord of The Rings or anything affiliated with J.R.R Tolkien's work.**

* * *

It was almost sunset when Stella trekked to the training grounds, itching to shoot some arrows and practice her swordplay after sitting for so long at the council.

She could hardly believe it herself when Frodo offered to take the the Ring to Mordor. It made her feel sick to her stomach, but no matter how much Stella disagreed with the young hobbit's decision, she knew there was nothing she could do to change his mind. For such small and jolly creatures, hobbits were surly very stubborn.

"_If he refuses to listen, at least I can look out for him along the way_," thought Stella, picking up her weapon.

Sliding her fingers over the perfectly carved bow, Stella notched a sharpened arrow. She squinted at the wooden target, running the inside of her index finger over the feathered end. Time seemed to slow around her, and the only sound she heard was the pulse of blood in her ears. She waited a full heartbeat before releasing the notched arrow, sending the flying object to hit it's mark dead in the center of the target. The elf girl smiled to herself.

Shot after shot was fired, each hitting the center mark. Stella felt adrenaline coursing through her veins, as it typically does when she trains and fights. Shooting did not require her to think, it just required her to act.

"You have extremely impressive aim," a voice said behind her. Stella whirled, weapon pointed at the source of the voice.

At the sight of Legolas, the blonde elf, she lowered her weapon, an apologetic smile on her face. But before she could open her mouth, he spoke.

"I apologize. I shouldn't have startled you like that," he said. "You just have particularly fine skills with your weapon."

"Thank you," Stella said, smiling genuinely. She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear before motioning to the targets. "Do you shoot?"

His lips twitched up ever so slightly. "A little, yes."

Stella held out her bow, motioning for him to take it. Legolas waltzed forward, placing his fingers gently around the bow as if it was made of glass. After he had a firm grasp on it, Stella plucked an arrow from her quiver and placed it in Legolas's opposite hand.

The blonde elf notched the weapon and, with a quick flick of his fingers, the arrow buried itself deep inside the wood, smack dab in the center.

Stella cocked an eyebrow. "Only a little, hm?"

Legolas grinned, a sight that Stella had a feeling not many people saw that often. Even if he was never-aging, his smile made him look years younger. The thought struck her as odd.

"Perhaps a bit more than a little," said Legolas, shrugging nonchalantly. Stella laughed incredulously. The elf man knitted his brow in confusion at her outburst of laughter.

"I'm sorry," she said, shaking her head in disbelief. "It's just...you are very modest at something you're clearly very good at."

"Indeed, I can be modest," he agreed, tilting his head mildly at her. "But I do not think many appreciate someone who makes a big fuss over their skills."

"You are correct. However, you're also wrong," Stella grinned in her 'I-know-something-that-you-don't' way.

Legolas knitted his brow again. "How so?"

"Bragging rights," Stella said simply, as if she was just remarking on the weather.

"Br...bragging rights?" he asked, utterly puzzled by the new term.

"Yeah," The elleth said simply, slinging her quiver off her back. "It's like when you do something correct or really well, you get to boast about it for a while. It comes in handy when you win at a competition."

Legolas, who was listening intently at her words, furrowed his brow and placed his hands on his hips. "So, these, ah, bragging rights would work if we were to, I suppose, shoot in a small competition?"

A sly side smile spread on Stella's face. "Are you challenging me to a shooting contest so that you can win and gain bragging rights?"

"Perhaps," he said, a grin still set in place on his lips.

Stella's eyes narrowed playfully. She rubbed her finger on the feathers of the arrows, dramatically pausing for effect. She opened her mouth to tell him she accepted and to be prepared for a serious bum-kicking, but before she got the chance, a throat was cleared from behind the blonde elf. Legolas stepped aside to reveal a tall elf man dressed in a velvet cloak and long brown hair.

"Pardon me, my Prince," a tall elf man spoke in Sindarin, bowing lowly. For a moment, Stella thought that this elf man was just a little mixed up. Then, the realization dawned on her and Stella's eyes widened a fraction of an inch.

Legolas was elven royalty. And she just taught him what bragging rights were.

Out of the corner of her eye, Stella peered at the prince, who's smile was long gone by now. What was left was what she could probably assume as princely composure. If the ground could reach up and swallow her whole, she didn't think she would particularly mind at the moment.

"Yes, Galu?" Legolas asked, his voice controlled and slightly demanding.

"Lord Elrond has called an evening meal for all the members of the council. Lord Aragorn had suggested that you may be here and sent me to request your presence," the tall elf, Galu, said, bowing lowly again. Stella did not miss how his eyes flicked from Legolas to her in almost a scrutinizing way.

"Of course," Legolas responded cooly Galu nodded, and strode back from where he entered, his back pin straight. The prince turned to Stella, who was already packing up her weapon and it's essentials.

"We shall take our leave, then," Legolas nodded, directing his stare to the fallen leaves in front of him to avoid any eye contact with Stella. He wasn't quite sure he wanted to see the look on the elf girl's face. She would probably bow and profusely apologize for 'speaking out of turn' or something silly of that nature.

Yes, the royal treatment was nice, but it was also a tad stifling. Legolas was bred to command, to lead, and to act as cordially as possible. He was bowed to, listened to, and after centuries of being called "My Lord" or "Your Highness", Legolas had gotten used to it.

But that didn't necessarily meant he liked it.

He started forward, but was caught off guard by Stella's short laugh. She shook her head, snorting a little. Legolas stared at her, slightly bewildered and unsure what exactly he should do.

Slinging her weapon further up on her shoulder, the still giggling elf waltzed past the stunned prince. "Come back at noon, tomorrow. I trust you have your own bow."

Legolas didn't answer. Stella took that as a yes. "Good. And don't think just because you're royalty, I'll go easy on you. Until later, Your Highness."

With one more fox-like grin and a small bow, Stella swaggered off, leaving Legolas unmoving in her wake.

For a few minutes, the elven Prince just stood there, hanging his hands loosely at his sides. His thoughts were crowded with the enigmatic elleth with a likeness towards archery and bragging rights.

A smile found it's way onto his face as he scuffled over the leaves and exited the training grounds.

* * *

By the time Stella had strode into the commons, the dinner had already commenced.

As she approached the long table, an elven servant hurried forward, taking her bow and quiver before she could protest. She had no problem with placing her weapons away herself, yet the elven maids never gave her the chance. Pursing her lips, Stella then slid into a chair in between Frodo and Aragorn, bracing herself for the brutal teasing she's have to endure.

"And at last she arrives," Aragorn playfully scolded. "Late, as per usual."

"Oh, eat your greens, you royal pain in the rear," Stella narrowed her eyes, sipping the fine elvish wine from her goblet. Aragorn laughed heartily and Frodo, who had listened in on the exchange, choked on his bread. Stella thumped him on the back.

"Aye, laddie, careful there," Gimli rumbled from across the table. "We can't be havin' our Ringer-bearer choking ta death."

"Yes, I do not wish to give you the Hiemlich maneuver. It did not go well last time," Stella said, pointedly looking at Aragorn over her cup. The Ranger conveniently avoided her accusatory glance.

"The...hiem—what?" Frodo asked, very confused and a little concerned. Gimli slammed his goblet against the wooden table.

"Elvish sorcery, that is what!" he declared loudly. A few elves around them rolled their eyes in irritation, but Stella smiled, amused.

"Ah, not quite, Lord Gimli," she corrected, spearing some leafy greens onto her fork. Gimli looked a little thrown by her neutral and utterly respectful tone. Any other elf would simply retort back in their annoyingly proper way. "It is something I learned back home before I left. Vital to survival especially in dire situations."

Stella stuck the fork of greens into her mouth. Gimli just stared and Frodo fought to contain his laughter.

"Ah, Legolas," Aragorn said, clearing his throat in a poor attempt not to laugh at the current situation. He too was containing his amusement, yet he did not think it wise to laugh in front of the dwarf. "It is nice of you to join us."

Stella peered through her eye lashes at the blonde elf who swiftly sat in his chair across from Aragorn. Gimli wrinkled his nose and shifted away ever so slightly. He looked as if he had smelled rotten milk.

"My apologies, I was at the shooting range with all intention in returning early, but I became a little too invested," Legolas responded, cordially. From over her cup of wine, Stella tried not to laugh.

'Yeah, invested my arse,' she thought. 'You were too busy showing off and then challenging me just to brag about your oh-so-impressive archery skills.'

"Ah, then perhaps you ran into Stella while you were there. Not only does she arrive late, but she tends to make others late as well," Aragorn smirked, throwing a sideways glance at his elven companion who coughed in to her wine.

"I do NOT. The only reason we were late for that silly banquet thing because you insisted on buying that horse," protested Stella, setting down her goblet, glaring. "And, if you must be so nosy as to ask, he and I didn't even cross paths."

Aragorn 'tsked', shaking his head. "Then how rude of you to not introduce yourself."

Stella opened her mouth to retort, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her from doing so. She turned to see Haradion, a elven guardsman, standing above her.

"Lady Stella, I believe Lord Elrond requests your presence after you finish with your meal," Haradion reported formally. Stella wiped her mouth with a napkin hurriedly.

"Oh, no, I was just finishing anyway. I can go now," Stella said, pushing back her chair and standing. Haradion wrinkled his brow ever so slightly.

"Lord Elrond is meeting with Lord Gandalf at this moment. Perhaps you should wait," the Elf Guard protested, placing a hand out to stop her from walking.

"I'm sure it will be alright," Stella argued, waving her hand dismissively. She turned to the men, who were all staring at her oddly. "If you will excuse me, gentlemen."

Stella spun, skillfully skirting Haradion's outstretched hand and made her way across the floor and up the stairway briskly. The fading sunlight of the evening cast elongated shadows on the pillars as she turned down a few corridors before coming close to Lord Elrond's study. The door was cracked, light flooding onto the darkened marble.

Stella slowed as she approached, for the voices on the other side of the door were hushed and frantic. The tips of her ears perked and she pressed herself to the wall to hear better. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but as soon as her name was uttered, she knew she had to stay put.

"...And after all this time, she still does not know? It has been nearly eight hundred years since she was taken from this land and placed in the one of mortals. Have you not thought to tell her?" Lord Elrond whispered

Gandalf's reply was cross. "Of course I have! But she only believes herself to be a simple age of twenty-six, still much too young to understand!"

"She will if you just tell her. Stella has grown over the many years you have known her, and is now a very lovely young elf with a clear conscious. She may be rash at times, but she will understand your reasoning."

"I wish I can believe you, but how am I supposed to tell her that she was given up? That her mother faded after her father did not survive in battle?"

Stella felt like she was doused in a bucket of ice water. Her body sagged against the wall, eyes stinging. She had always grasped on to the thoughts of her family still out there somewhere. When she would be sent from foster home to foster home, Stella would stay awake at night and stare into the darkness, dreaming of her mother and father, welcoming her with open arms. And with that small hope torn away...she had never felt so defeated.

Taking a sharp breath, Stella stood. Her parents were gone. But that was not what made her upset. Gandalf knew her parents were no longer alive, yet he never thought to tell her. He let her believe she had someone, anyone, waiting for her. Stella's hands were shaking as she clenched them into fists. A hot, boiling feeling rose from the pit of her stomach, through her bloodstream and spread like wildfire all over her body. The elleth's vision went red around the edges.

Fuming, and not entirely thinking straight, Stella threw open the door. This ultimately gained the attention o the conversing men immediately, their eyes widening.

"You knew," Stella choked out. "You knew this whole time and didn't tell me?"

"Estella, please—"

"No," she said forcefully, shaking her head. "No, Gandalf. No more secrets. You told me that I had a home, I had a family. And this entire time, you lied and I believed?"

The girl scoffed, biting the inside of her cheek and staring at the two in utter disbelief. "You know, when I got sent to those horrendous foster homes, I used to stay awake at night and think about the family I never had. I was taunted and abused, but the only thing that I held onto was what you told me. What you always told me. The other kids called me crazy because I could see a grey wizard and they couldn't, but even that didn't discourage me from feeling like a day old sandwich someone just tossed away. Doesn't matter now, thought, does it?"

Gandalf's eyes were sad. Down in some part of her heart, Stella knew she was being unreasonable, that she should just let him explain. But the anger, sadness, and desperation claimed the upper hand in this situation.

"Excuse me," Stella said. And, without another word, she spun out the door and into the hallway, eyes welling with unshed tears.

* * *

**Poor Stella. And poor Gandalf.**

**Their friendship is terribly rocky at the moment.**

**Okay, Fun Fact Time: As I gave this to Jo to edit in band practice one morning, she finished the chapter with two things to say about it:**

**1) She practically swooned over what we call the "Lella" scenes (AKA, Legolas and Stella. They probably need a better name, but we just quickly came up with it without much extra thought**** ) **

**2) She asked me if Stella and Gandalf would make up before he "dies". (To that, I just shrugged and smiled. It kinda drove her bonkers)**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed! In the next chapter, I will try to make it lengthier, but it will definitely be intriguing.**

**Read and Comment, please!**

**Peace out, Girl Scout :)**

**-Halesie**


	6. Chapter 6

**Heyyyy!**

**Hope alllll of you are having a fantastic day.**

**So, I was talking with Jo while I was writing this yesterday and she asked what is in store for our beloved Lella since she isn't able to read this chapter until it's uploaded. (Typically, she reads it in home room or lunch during the school week before I post, but I did just start this chapter during the weekend and haven't seen her since Friday.)**

**To that, I answered, is CUTENESS.**

**And as I sat with my trusty feline companion Pippin (who is actually my sister and her boyfriend's cat, but I came up with name after one of my favorite hobbits) on my lap, I was stuck with where I wanted to go next in Stella's story, so I just put a whole bunch of comforting and sweet Legolas...things in here and called it good.**

**And**,** because it's Super Bowl Sunday, I will have the perfect excuse to write more chapters tonight.**

**So be looking out for Chapter 7 either tonight or tomorrow...;)**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own LOTR.**

* * *

An hour after Stella found out about Gandalf's secret, she was irritated.

A day after, she felt guilty.

And two days after, she knew she had to apologize.

But she didn't exactly know how.

She pondered this as the morning light lazily streamed over Rivendell's fine homes and magnificent gardens. The Fellowship, clad with armor and a pack horse, stood facing a small party of elves, including Lord Elrond and Arwen.

Stella eyes immediately picked out Minuial, who held a teary Glassada in her arms, from small crowd with a smile. Standing on the tips of her toes to ensure they saw her, Stella pressed her fingers to her lips and blew the pair a kiss, a motion that she taught to the child when she first arrived to Rivendell. Glassada reached out her hand, grasping thin air before holding her clenched fist to her heart. Sparkling tears slid down her small face, and Minuial even wiped her own eyes. It took everything in Stella's power not to start crying as well.

She turned her head away with one last soft smile to the two elleths, and tried to focus on her own task at hand. Beside her, Stella met the eyes of Legolas, who's head was tilted curiously. He had obviously seen her exchange with Glassada, and seemed to be puzzled by it. His brow was so knitted, she thought it may never come undone.

"Careful," she said, shifting closer so that only he could hear her. "Your face could get stuck like that, you know."

Legolas relaxed his features immediately, worried that his face would truly stick in it's confused state. That is, until he saw the slightest teasing grin on Stella's pretty face that his lip twitched.

"I was pondering what you could be gesturing to your small friend," he asked.

The elven prince nodded discreetly to Minuial and Glassada, who were still quite teary. In risk of her eyes watering, Stella cast her gaze away from them again. Instead, she placed her eyes on Legolas's never-aging face with a fond smile.

"Where I am from," said Stella, pausing to mentally debate how much detail she wished to reveal about her former home life. The spat with Gandalf left her barely closed wound in shambles and she did no want to rub salt on it by discussing New York. But she continued anyway. "Where I am from, we press our hands to our mouths and release as a degree of affection. It's called blowing kisses."

Legolas seemed immensely intrigued. "Blowing...kisses?"

"Yes," she nodded in confirmation. "We blow kisses when we want to say 'I will miss you', or 'See you soon', and especially for 'I love you'. It's just another way to show affection to people you care about."

"I see," the blonde elf said, still thoroughly engrossed by the entire premise of what she was explaining. He opened his mouth to say more, but Lord Elrond's loud voice silenced the Fellowship's quiet chatter.

"I am afraid this is farewell, my friends," he said, peering at each one of them. When his gaze set itself on her, she squared her shoulders at the knowing look in his eyes. He knew what she was going to do. He always knew. "Through uncertain perils and dangerous enemies, I wish you the best of luck. Follow your Ring-bearer, for he will lead you on your journey. Aa' menle nauva calen ar' ta hwesta e' ale'quenle."

The elf lord gestured his hand to their exit and nodded solemnly at Frodo. The hobbit hesitated before slowly walking through the tall pillars, Gandalf by his side. The company filed out after him, Stella and Aragorn taking up the rear.

A few paces before the two Rangers reached the pillars, Aragorn stopped to look back, his eyes searching among the elves. Stella tilted her head, unsure of what her friend was doing. It wasn't until she saw the unshed tears gather in Arwen's eyes that Stella knew Aragorn took her advice about his love for Lord Elrond's daughter.

She also knew that they could very well never see each other again. The very thought made her heart hurt.

Stella trekked onward, keeping her eyes glued on the leafy path in front of her. The weight of the people she left behind caused her shoulders to sag helplessly. She knew Lord Elrond would not have his people stay with such a threat as everlasting darkness, but that would mean she would never again see the childish grin on Glassada's face and have the heartfelt talks with Minuial. The ache in her chest grew.

"We must keep an eye out at all times," Aragorn said, suddenly striding up beside her. Her shoulders tensed in surprise, but quickly unraveled as she peered up at her friend. "I do not know what awaits us on this journey."

Stella nodded, tearing her gaze from him to rest it on the backs of Legolas and Boromir's heads. "I am sorry, Aragorn. About Arwen."

The Ranger was silent for a few paces, stealing glances at his saddened friend. When her eyes would not meet his, he spoke.

"Arwen will be safe from harm. Do not despair, _mellon_," The Ranger said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "You must have enough sadness in your heart already."

Then, Stella finally swiveled her head to look at him. His expression urged her to elaborate on her current situation.

Stella sighed. "It's Gandalf. He knew about my mother and father, yet did not tell me."

"Surly he has his reasons," Aragorn said. "And if he knew them, doesn't that put you one step further to meeting them?"

"No," Stella replied shortly. "They're dead."

He stopped in his tracks, hand still placed on her shoulder. His eyes searched her face for any form of a joke, a simple ruse, but there was none.

"I know he has his reasons, Aragorn, I really do. But I was angry. I yelled, cried, and cursed at everything," Stella said, swallowing the lump in her throat. "But really, the only person I actually hurt wasn't myself. It was him."

The elleth started walking again, for the pair had gotten slightly too far behind the company. Once they caught up, however, Aragorn took her hand and squeezed.

"I am sorry, Stella. I did not know," Aragorn murmured softly.

Stella nodded as the Fellowship continued to trek on ahead. The past few days were emotionally draining on her. The only time she was not too upset was the few days she spent in the training ground with Legolas. The pair bantered about odd things, but it gave Stella relief from her impending thoughts.

Legolas must have known something was troubling her. One day, he sat up in the trees to await her arrival and threw acorns at her head just to make her laugh. And on the next day, he bribed some elven kitchen workers and brought an entire satchel of tangy cheese, warm bread, and canteens of mint tea, which kept them content so that they may remain in the grounds until the sun went down. She told him old fairytales from her childhood; he told her the legends of his people. And, for a while, she didn't worry much about the constant sadness and guilt of speaking foully to the only person who actually cared for her since she was an infant.

The company continued on through trees, hills, valleys, and swamps without much noise uttered, leaving Stella alone with her thoughts. The sun shone weakly the entire way and the elleth pulled her cloak a little tighter to her frame. Light, cool breezes ruffled her waves of hair. The slow pace lulled her into a barely conscious state of mind. Oh, what she would give to scurry up one of these creaky trees and spring from branch to branch.

"Stella," Aragorn said, shaking her out of her bored state. Without her knowledge, he had moved up a few paces and was now walking next to Legolas. "You and Legolas should scout ahead. See if there is any trouble in store."

Stella nodded, tossing a relieves smile to her Ranger friend as she scampered up the nearest tree. She could always count on her friend to know exactly what she needed.

Behind her, Legolas swung himself up the tree. Perching herself on a high branch, she waited until he gained footing next to her, offering him a small grin.

"Aragorn said you tend to get restless if the pace is too slow," Legolas said, taking a leap to the branch slightly higher than hers.

"Yes. It's hard for me to sit still. I used to get into trouble in school because I would move too much," Stella replied, a short laugh escaping her lips. She jumped from branch to branch, the elven prince doing the same from the branches beside her.

"I'm sure you were your instructor's prized pupil," Legolas grinned as they neared each other again. Stella shrugged and sent him a devil-may-care look, peering down at the company below. They were still quite far behind, with Boromir and Aragorn now taking up the rear. Stella leaped to the next branch, landing on her toes. The bark scraped her palms, but it wasn't terribly painful.

A few more trees later, Stella finall plopped herself down on the dense branch, her feet swinging below her. She took a deep breath, inhaling the woody scents and damp leaves.

Quietly, Legolas leapt next to her and sat in one fluid motion. His blue eyes focused intently on her angular seemed slightly lighter up in the trees, away from all the heavy air below. Stella sat without a sound, her eyes examining the branches around them.

"You know," Stella said, breaking the silence and tearing her eyes from the drying leaves to meet his. "I wasn't just an antsy child, but I also kind of a thief."

"Why, you must have been quite the troublemaker," Legolas teased.

Stella grinned in reply. "Indeed. I grew up in an orphanage run by these two women. Whenever some of the kids would call the younger or weaker ones names, I would steal these little candy treats from the back of the drawers in the kitchen to make them feel better. Nobody knew, but once, one of the ladies that ran the place saw me and I thought surly that I would be in trouble. Instead, I just kept finding little treats in the back of the drawer."

"First, you cause your poor instructors grief, then you steal from kitchen drawers," Legolas smirked. "I am curious to see what is next."

Stella rolled her eyes. "And I can fairly assume you were absolutely princely as can be when you were a child, hm?"

"Actually, I can recall an incident that did involve spilled beans and kitchen servants," he commented mildly. Stella quirked her eyebrow in surprise.

"Oh?" she asked, looking expectantly to the elf prince. But, instead of giving her an answer, he stood and inclined his hand to her from above.

"Story for another time, my lady," he responded. She huffed, placing her slender hand on his, fingers wrapping around his wrist. Her fingers, long with bony knuckles and short fingernails, we're usually longer than many others she had come across. However, when she compared their hands, his dwarfed her's entirely. The feeling of being small for once was a little daunting, but not unwelcoming. It actually made her feel...warm. And tingly.

With a shake of her head. Stella followed Legolas as he slid down the tree, landing with a soft 'thump' on the muddy ground. The pair stopped a few feet in front of Frodo and Gandalf, who ceased conversing as soon as the elves popped from the leaves.

Frodo looked up at the trees and back at them curiously. "Where...?"

"Scouting ahead, Master Baggins. Watching for any signs of danger," Stella replied to the hobbit.

"We have come across no imminent threats, but it is growing dark. We must find somewhere to make camp for the night," Legolas spoke, casting his eyes to the darkening sky. Stella nodded in agreement, avoiding the gaze of Gandalf. The pair rejoined their company, Gimli huffing at their reappearance.

"It's about time you two showed up," he grumbled. "Silly elves."

"No more silly than you," Legolas retorted calmly. The dwarf growled lowly, muttering curses under his breath. Merry and Pippin grinned at each other, stifling their laughter.

"Anything out of the ordinary?" Aragorn asked, hooking two fingers around Stella's elbow to gain her attention. She shook her head.

"Not yet. Although, we need to find someplace to rest before it grows too dark," the elleth concluded. She then turned to smile softly at Aragorn. "_Hannon le, mellon_."

"Whatever for?" he asked, feigning innocence.

"You know what," replied Stella, slapping her knuckles lightly on his shoulder.

Aragorn continued to act unaware and confused, but inside, he knew. Just seeing his friend launch into witty banter with Legolas and Gimli and forget her troubles was all he really needed to know he did the right thing.

And that was all that really mattered anyway.

* * *

**Aragorn's such a good friend...**

**What'd you think?**

**Not much happened, this was kinda just a filler, but that is why I am finishing up 7 to upload either tonight or tomorrow. I still hope you liked it though!**

**Thanks for reading! **

**Pippin the cat says stay pawesome ;)**

**-Halesie**


	7. Chapter 7

**HEY.**

**Okay, before we begin, I would like to apologize for not updating yesterday like I said I would try to do. I had the day off from school yesterday (SNOW DAYYY) and I was planning on uploading last night. But I did the stupidest thing you could do when uploading at night: I got into my bed.**

**So, yeah, the reason why you did not have Chapter 7 last night was because my bed was too warm, it was 11:30 pm and I fell asleep. Apologies.**

**But I hope you are well and will enjoy this new chapter of Stella's story!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR.**

* * *

The weather was not at all forgiving on the mountain.

The bone-rattling winds whipped through each member of the Fellowship like a knife slicing through soft butter. Each member stumbled through the high snow, feet numb and wet, despite the glowing sun above them. Stella was starting to think that they should have taken Gimli's suggestion he had made a few days ago and gone through the Mines of Moria, where some of his kin lived. At least there they wouldn't feel like freezer burned Popsicles.

Drawing her elvish cloak around her, the elleth shivered, glad she was trekking by herself so no one could see how blue her fingers had turned. Aragorn had left her side when they arrived to the steeper areas of the mountain, but Frodo and Sam were only a few feet in front of her. The cold made her feel miserably awake, yet it lulled her into boredom. She was forced to stare at her feet, for the whipping winds made it quite hard to peer ahead of her without her eyes watering.

A scuffle of feet on snow and a slight yelp made her lift her head up to see Frodo barreling his way down the mountain. He rolled at a particularly fast rate, but Stella instinctively snatched the dark haired hobbit by the collar before he could fall completely off the mountain. She gritted her teeth, planted her feet in the snow, and tugged with all her strength. Frodo stood with some difficulty, but once he got his bearings, his large feet were planted firmly in the ground.

"Boromir," Gandalf's voice spoke over the howling winds, causing Stella to lift her head and squinted into the sun. The man stood with his cloak furiously licking at his ankles, holding a chain up to the blue skies.

But it wasn't just a simple chain. It was the Ring.

Stella tensed, gripping the end of her bow, ready to attack if necessary. Boromir swayed, as if in a trance, muttering words she could not hear. Giving Frodo a small nudge, the pair started back up the hill, Stella's eyes never leaving Boromir. Behind him, she saw Aragorn, Legolas and the other hobbits staring as well, the Ranger and elf man gripping their weapons.

"Boromir," Stella called to the entranced man. She wrapped the ends of her cloak around the shivering hobbit, as she felt his feet slipping on the snow once again. "Boromir, give the Ring to Frodo."

Snapping out of his dream-like state, Boromir looked up at her hardened face, bewildered. His eyes shifted to the Ring-bearer in front of her, his grip loosening on the chain.

Then he smiled and forced a laugh. "Be careful, young hobbit. We do not want this precious parcel to fall in the wrong hands."

Stella's eyes narrowed at his hidden panic as he shakily handed the Ring back to Frodo. The hobbit snatched the Ring from Boromir, clasping the chain back around his neck. The Gondorian man turned, stumbling, and then continued to climb to the rest of the Fellowship.

"Blasted man," Gimli rasped lowly as he came up from behind her. Stella remained silent and continued walking, the icy snow causing her footing to be horribly unsteady.

After Boromir's incident with the Ring, Stella stuck closely to Frodo. Despite the burning in her thighs and the numbness in her skin, she kept one hand around his shoulder to prevent any more mishaps. Aragorn and Legolas had slowed to remain a barrier between Frodo and Boromir, they too wishing to evade any accidents.

Time passed slowly. Stella felt as though they have been climbing for hours, days, and even years. Her nose turned cherry red and she had to clench her jaw to prevent her teeth from chattering. Her clothing was soaked through, which made the whipping wind heavy snow fall even worse.

As the party of men and Stella came to a flatter snow-covered path against the rocks of the mountainside, her legs nearly collapsed in relief. That is, until the ground rumbled from under her.

The elleth was thrown back, gripping the rocky mountain with one hand and Frodo's shoulder with the other. Boulders of ice and snow tumbled down, missing the Fellowship members by inches. Tremors pulsed through the mountain again, this time tearing down jagged rocks as well as ice.

The howling wind whistled even louder in her ears. But this was not like any other time it whipped through her skin and bone. Something, or rather someone, howled along with it.

"A voice," Legolas shouted over the blistering blizzard. "From the mountain!"

"It is Saruman!" Gandalf roared back. "He is casting dark magic upon this mountain!"

Right on cue, another one of Saruman's spells racked the mountain, shaking the company off their feet and into the snowy banks.

"We must get off the mountain!" Stella shouted, as jagged rocks and avalanches of snow fell more frequently. She tried stumbling to her feet again, but the ledge below her let out a rumble, and she fell flat on her rear-end.

"We can go through Moria," Gimli yelped, clinging to the rocks with his meaty fingers. Gandalf shook his head.

"We must let the Ring bearer decide," he concluded, tearing Frodo's attention away from the avalanche that was upon them. The hobbit peered at each freezing face through the blizzard of snow and wind, licking his chapped lips.

A pregnant pause fell through the Fellowship, save for the constant rumbles of rock and cries of surprise and pain of the members that fell against the snow. Frodo seemed to be calculating by the look on his small face.

Finally, after what seemed like decades, he spoke. "We'll go through the mines."

A great sigh of relief washed over much of the Fellowship, yet Stella did not miss the slightly darkened features of Gandalf's withered face.

They may have not known the danger that could reside in Moria, but the grey wizard did. The thought made Stella shiver, and it wasn't just from the cold.

* * *

By the time some warmth had returned to her toes, Stella and the rest of the company were slipping through the damp caverns of the Mines.

In front of her, Merry's hairy foot slid into the lake, splashing murky water on his trousers and her boots. Stella wrinkled her nose in disgust.

The muddy water and crumbling rocks gave the mines a very foreboding aura. Trees snaked up the wall, dead branches reclining limply against the flat stone. It was like something out of the old horror movies Stella had watched as a kid. The full moon shone upon the company eerily, giving little light for them to see clearly. However, for Gandalf, it seemed to be just enough.

The Fellowship stood in amazement as the stones glowed blue, casting strange shadows on the withered trees. Elvish markings and ornate drawings flooded the wall, putting the lightest of smiles on Stella's face. The fluorescent scene was beautiful, despite being placed in the dreary cavern.

"The entrance to Moria," Gandalf spoke at last, running his wrinkled hands over the elvish carvings. "The Doors of Durin—Lord of Moria. Speak friend and enter."

"What does that mean?" Merry inquired next to Stella.

"Oh, it is quite simple," Gandalf replied, not breaking his gaze from the doors. "If you are a friend, speak the password and enter."

Touching the tip of his staff to a marking on the stone, Gandalf spoke a string of words in elvish. The group waited a beat or two, but nothing happened. Stella's small smile disappeared from her face.

Again and again Gandalf attempted, but to no avail. Eventually, much of the Fellowship sat on the old rocks, their hope diminishing after every minute. Stella's legs ached, something she had forgotten since the snowy passageway. But now, as she sat, the muscle fatigue couldn't be more prominent.

She rubbed her still blue fingers on her ivory pants, attempting to warm them. When that did not work, she cupped them around her mouth, breathing out hot air. Her fingers were naturally cool to the touch, but this was ridiculous.

Beside her, Legolas sat on a boulder, placing his bow at his feet. She turned to look at him, her hands still cupped around her mouth. He smiled softly at the sight of her icy fingers smothering half her face with her wide eyes the only thing to be viewed.

"You're fingers are blue," he remarked, casually detaching the hand closest to him from her face and placing it between his warm fingers.

Stella rolled her eyes, as pins and needles stuck into her skin from the sudden temperature difference. She pondered curiously on how his hands were so warm. It was as if he wasn't even on the same mountain as she.

"Yes, thank you for noticing," the elleth said sarcastically.

"You're welcome," Legolas replied, oblivious to her tone of voice. He peeled her other hand from her mouth and clasped it in his larger one. For a while, the pair did not say much, they just let the sounds of scuffling feet and low voices carry through their ears. Legolas's eyes trained on Stella's tiny hands, while the elleth's gaze was on the thoroughly disappointed Gimli and the quiet Frodo.

Throughout this entire process of waiting, Frodo did not speak a word. He sat, staring at Gandalf, who tried to open the doors, but failed repeatedly. Stella furrowed her brow, blinking at the hobbit before glancing away. There was something wrong about the caverns. It was as if something, or someone, was watching the company. And she didn't like it at all.

"This doesn't feel right," Stella murmured, catching the attention of Legolas, whom she almost forgot was still there, holding her hands.

"What?" Legolas asked, muscles tensing in his jaw as he knit his brow together.

"It's just...it feels wrong," Stella attempted to explain, drawing her hands away from his. They immediately felt colder, but Stella ignored it and continued surveying the area. "Like we're being watched."

She stood, slowly rotating around and wrapping her hand around her bow. Her scrutinizing gaze shifted from every corner of the caves, and stopped at the muddy lake. The flat, glassy water rippled in the center.

She narrowed her eyes.

A large crack of stone tore Stella's focus away from the rippling lake. Spinning around, her eyes widened a fraction of an inch at the doors of the entrance of Moria swung open. Merry and Pippin gasped and Stella stood stock-still on the rocky shore.

One by one, each member slowly moved forward into the dark room on the other side of the doors. Stella cautiously stepped forward. However, in front of her, Gimli, leapt into Moria, wielding his axe mightily.

"A mine, they call it!" he shouted, swinging his axe and nearly missing Stella's body by centimeters. She backed away, tripping over a large rock on the floor. "A mine would not contain such hospitable hosts! Malt beer, ripe meat off the bone, and roaring fires! This is the home of my cousin, Balin!"

Legolas caught Stella's arm before she could hit the ground as Gimli continued to roar happily. She regained her footing and the elven prince peered down at what she stumbled over. Stella copied, stomach lurching at the sight of a dwarves skull staring back at her.

"This is no mine, it's a tomb!" Boromir exclaimed, kicking a cobwebbed corpse.

"It isn't possible..." Gimli gasped in disbelief. But when he saw a decaying skeleton of a dwarf by the staircase, he sank to his knees in anguished cries. "No! Noooo!"

Not paying much heed to Gimli's sobs, Legolas kneeled and pulled an out arrow out of the skeletal body at Stella's feet. He wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Goblins."

Behind them, the hobbits cried out in alarm. Stella, Aragorn, and Legolas drew their weapons quickly, but not quick enough. A large, curling tentacle wrapped itself around the ankle of Frodo, pulling him down the rocks and to the murky water below. Pippin, Merry, and Sam rushed forward, tugging on Frodo's arms and clothes. Merry swung his sword at the tentacle, momentarily freeing his friend. However, they did not get much relief, for a whole set of slimy serpent hands latched onto Frodo and swatted the others away like flies.

Stella notched and arrow and fired in one fluid motion, the flying object hitting the serpent in the middle of it's large slick head. The creature roared in pain, thrashing it's tentacles. However, it did not seem like she had wounded the beast, but she actually did quite the opposite. The rest of the Fellowship rushed out of the room of corpses, wielding their swords, axe, and bow.

Aragorn and Boromir sliced at the tentacles, while Legolas fired shots at the head of the creature. However, the serpent did not seem to be withdrawing, instead, it advanced forward, thrashing about and causing the stone wall to begin crumbling around them. It wasn't until a large slab of stone collapsed that the men ceased fighting the beast.

"The Mines! Into the Mines!" Gandalf shouted. Boromir sheathed his sword and ran, snatching up Pippin and Merry on his way. Sam and Gimli followed, dodging the corpses littered on the floor.

Aragorn soon barreled on after them. Stella, however, scurried forward and pulled Frodo to his feet, half-carrying the hobbit away from the lake. Legolas waited until they made it close to the archway before clasping Stella's hand and taking off running. The beastly serpent howled behind them, crashing into the beautiful doors of Moria once again. The stone tumbled down heavily, nearly crushing Stella, Legolas, and Frodo in the process. The three narrowly missed the stairwell without being pancaked. If it wasn't for Legolas's tug on her hand at the last second, Stella would have been trapped under the crumbling rock.

As soon as they were safe from the falling stone, Aragorn rushed over to where the two elves and the hobbit stood wearily, nearly out of breath. He surveyed each one for signs of injury, his eyes wide. After making sure that they were not harmed, the Ranger released them. Stella offered him a weary grin and he ruffled her hair in response.

"We have but one choice now," Gandalf muttered. Stella peeled her eyes from her Ranger friend and settled them on the grey wizard. The look on his face was grave, and Stella's stomach did somersaults. "We must go through the Mines. Be on your guard, for there are much older and fouler things than orcs ahead."

Gandalf's eyes searched each member in the company. They lingered a little longer on Stella, and all at once, her guilt and pain rushed back upon her heart. The distractions of the blizzard on the mountain and the Mines of Moria caused her to temporarily forget about her argument with the grey wizard. She made a silent promise to herself that as soon as the light from outside hit her face, she'd apologize for yelling and ignoring her old friend. Perhaps then she would be able to hear more about her family.

Gandalf knocked his wooden staff against the stone stairwell, like he was testing the durability before they climbed. "Come, it is a four day journey to the other side. Let us hope that our presence goes unnoticed by those who wish to do us harm."

Stella crossed her fingers, desperately wishing that could be true. But deep in her heart, she knew that this journey would be anything but safe travels for the Fellowship, as long as they carried the Ring.

* * *

**Ahh, the Ring of evil.**

**Whenever I feel as though life if getting bad, I always think "It could be worse. You could be traveling on a quest you barely know anything about to bring an evil ring to it's evil master's lair while putting yourself and your friends in mortal danger along the way."**

**...Yeah, it's been a weird day.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed! And don't forget to R&amp;R!**

**Catch ya soon :)**

**-Halesie**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hello, long time no see!**

**At least, it's felt like a very long time. I am very sorry for the lack of chapter update in a few days. This one took extremely long to write and edit. I still don't even think it was the best editing job in the world, to be honest. And, to top it off, FanFiction was being a bum for me yesterday and read used to work. **

**Pfft, lame.**

**Here we are anyway! I am quite excited for you to read this because A LOT happens here...**

**BUT I DON'T WANT TO GIVE TOO MUCH AWAY SO I HOPE YOU LIKE IT AND STUFF.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR**

* * *

Stella had faced plenty of adversaries in her short time in Middle Earth, but those were nothing compared to the stairs of Moria.

The stairs were old and crumbling, stretching for miles up deep slopes. The incline of the stairwell made the snowy mountain look like a gentle rolling hill.

However, the steepness was only half the issue. The stone staircase was cracked and crumbled from age and use, causing loose pieces of rock to slide out from under the feet of the Fellowship if they stepped incorrectly. Plenty of times, Stella had to either help a member back on their feet, or be helped herself.

To say that reaching the last set of stairs was relieving had to be the understatement of the century.

Gandalf was the first to get to the platform first. Slabs of stone covered the dirty ground and three open passageways lined the stone wall.

Stella trudged up the last few stairs behind Aragorn, her boots scuffing against the dirt quietly. She stifled a small yawn. For the past two nights, she had taken watch while the others slept, mostly from the thoughts echoing around her skull that prevented her from falling into sleep's welcoming arms. Oh how she was cursing her over-active mind now.

As the rest of the Fellowship reached the top, they glanced curiously at the three doors and ruins that lay scattered about. For a long while, silence hung heavily in the air before Gandalf uttered the words that everyone secretly feared to hear.

"I have no memory of this place," he said, slumping on a boulder with his back to the company. No one spoke, but Boromir shuffled to a rocky seat, sighing loudly. Soon, the rest followed his example, reclining against the boulders wearily. Stella sat against the rocks Pippin, Sam, and Merry were perched on, her cloak wrapped around her. She eased her head against the stone, staring at the slopes of stairs in front of her, eyes out of focus.

From above her, Pippin pestered Merry and Sam with questions. "Are we lost?"

"No, Pippin," Merry answered monotonously. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Merry rest his chin on his hand, sighing.

"Shhh! Gandalf's thinking," Sam reprimanded the two, casting them scolding glares. The two hobbits quieted and Sam turned his back away from them.

"Merry?" Pippin whispered, careful not to disturb Gandalf.

"What?" Merry asked, slightly annoyed by his friend's constant inquiry.

"I'm hungry," Pippin whined. Stella fought down laughter, choosing to close her eyes instead. A small grin spread itself lazily on her lips. No matter how perilous this journey seemed, she could always count on the small hobbits to make her smile.

"They are certainly an interesting species," Legolas spoke softly. Her eyes flickered open and her head lifted from the rock in surprise. There, he sat next to her, his legs crossed.

"Hobbits? Well, I suppose so. After all, they are quite fanatic over second breakfast," Stella mused, talking lowly so that the chattering hobbits did not hear her. "Although, their mint leaf tea is extremely delicious."

Legolas smiled teasingly. "Mint tea? I had thought of you as more of the chamomile consumer."

Stella waved her hand dismissively and wrinkled her nose. "No, no, chamomile is much too sweet. Mint is the perfect medium."

The elven prince chuckled. "You are always full of surprises, Lady Stella."

"Something I pride my self in very much, thank you,"she replied playfully. Stella propped her head back against the rocks for a few moments of silence only to shoot upright for the second time. "And you do not have to refer to me as 'Lady Stella', you know."

"I know. But you are a lady," Legolas replied mildly, shrugging his shoulders.

Stella scoffed. "Hardly. That is my gender, yes, but I have never been treated like a lady, much less acted like one."

Legolas studied her for a long while, his gaze soft and curious. Stella did her best not to squirm and peel her eyes away. She was not used to this kind of attention from someone. Often times in Middle Earth, she was looked at as either an object or a helpless girl in need of rescuing. Never like this.

"That is a pity," he said after a small pause. "That you are not treated much like a lady should be. For you will always be a lady to me."

Stella blinked dumbly. In all her life, she had never heard such words from a person to her, or, more specifically, about her. She had been called pretty numerous times, but this was unlike any compliment she'd ever received. The way he said it made the words seem to be less like a nice remark, but more of known fact. The tips of her ears warmed and she wondered who had started a fire.

"Oh, it is that way!" Gandalf said from behind her, leaping to his feet. Stella jumped at the sudden sound from the grey wizard, and she pulled out of her thoughts. Beside her, Legolas stood, offering his hand to her as she too regained her footing.

"He's remembered!" Merry exclaimed, jumping off the boulder eagerly. Aragorn and Boromir stood from their alcove they were resting and hurried over as well.

Gandalf lit his staff, slowly making his way through the rubble to the passageway on the left. Frodo, who had been sitting next to the grey wizard and quietly conversing with him, followed. Gandalf blew light into his staff.

"No, my dear Meriadoc, it simply smells less foul down here," The wizard answered, turning to give Merry one of his knowing winks. "When in doubt, follow your nose."

Stella shared a glance with Aragorn, who shook his head at Gandalf's odd explanations. The elleth trailed behind Gimli once again, however, she steered clear of his axe that was gripped in his thick fingers. She did not want to trip over any more dead bodies.

As the Fellowship continued on, the tunnel eventually opened to a vast room with columns of sculptured stone and arched ceilings. It was breathtaking, but also dark and filled with sorrow. It looked like nobody had lived there for years.

"The great realm of the Dwarrowdelf," Gandalf muttered, his staff growing lighter. Sam leg out a soft whistle, approvingly. Frodo nudged his arm, pressing his finger to his lips to silence his friend.

The company slowly walked on, still quite in awe of the palace. Stella wished she had five more sets of eyes just to view every nook and cranny of the hauntingly beautiful room.

A shuddering gasp broke her train of thought. Gimli stood frozen, staring at two open doors that were flooded with blue light. At first, Stella couldn't quite make out what was passed the doors, however, as she neared, a large stone slab engraved with carvings came into view.

It was a tomb.

"No!" Gimli wailed, rushing forward to the illuminated grave. He sank to his knees, crying loudly. "No, no, no, no!"

Gandalf slid his hand over the tomb, peeling away a thick layer of dust and peered down. His face was grim.

"Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria," Gandalf spoke, his words sending twinges of dread through each member "So it is as I feared then."

Gimli erupted into a fresh round of sobs, murmuring in the language of his people. Stella caught Balin's name on a few occasions, and she supposed he was chanting about his deceased cousin. She had the urge to place a comforting hand on his shoulder, but she knew full well that with the shock of pain, one often feels that they need to be in the company of themselves before seeking the comfort of others.

Gandalf, giving his hat and staff to a confused Pippin, had long abandoned the resting place of Balin and had taken to a large, dusty book from a cobwebbed skeleton. He began to read.

"They have taken the bridge and the second hall...we have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes...drums, drums in the deep," the grey wizard chanted, his face dark. He turned another withered page."We cannot get out...a shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out...they are coming."

A loud crash from behind them caused Stella's quickly beating heart to jump in her throat. The Fellowship whirled to see a wide-eyed Pippin fearfully staring back at them. The clangs of what he knocked down the well echoed for a long while. Stella frowned deeply. Any noise they made would alert whatever lurked in Moria that they arrived. And one hobbit probably just woke it up.

Gandalf slammed the book shut, barreling toward Pippin. He snatched his hat and staff from the cowering hobbit. "Fool of a Took! Throw yourself in next time to rid us of your stupidity!"

Pippin winced at his words. But before Gandalf could say anymore, thrums of thumping came from down the hall outside. Drums.

"Frodo!" Sam exclaimed, pointing a shaking finger at the sword sheathed in Frodo's belt. The weapon glowed blue.

"Orcs," Legolas spat from beside her, drawing his bow. The sound of yelps courses through the halls, sounding closer than Stella had originally thought. "And several of them."

"I hope you have enough arrows," Stella muttered from beside him, drawing her own bow. The elven prince offered her a small smile before his face turned steely. Boromir and Aragorn barred the door with the weapons of the fallen warriors.

The animalistic calls of the orcs grew louder. Stella flinched when the flimsy wooden door shuddered violently at the orc pack's force. She rubbed her index finger over the feathers of her notched arrow, calming the nerves flooding her insides.

It wasn't until the door split open that Stella's adrenaline overpowered her fluttering in her stomach. She fired shot after shot, the squeals of the orcs giving her the indication that she was hitting her marks through the hole in the wood. But that could only hold them for so long. Soon, the pack broke through the battered doors, splintering wood in all directions.

And that's when Stella knew they were screwed.

The orcs could only be properly described as the things from the nightmares of children. Foul creatures with sharp teeth, slimy complexion, and gurgling roars, the orcs looked like they came from the very pits of hell itself. It did not help that they also fought to the death, no mercy shown to even their own species.

The first few monstrous creatures barreled into the small room, some leaping onto Balin's tomb stone and howling wildly. One by one, the Fellowship took them down, arrows flying and swords glimmering in dark blood. Stella moved quickly, with the most grace she could muster. She shot at every orc that came into view, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

The orcs she could manage. But the vicious howl throbbing through the walls of Moria slowed her pace and made her eyes go wide in panic. Boromir cursed.

"Cave troll!" he shouted over the dying squeals of the orcs. For a small moment, Stella was caught off guard, surprised and utterly fearful of the cave troll. However, even if she slowed for a mere millisecond, that was enough time for a slimy orc to crash into her violently. The blow knocked her senseless and sent her sprawled on the ground. The dirty creature bared his teeth at her from where he stood, his fangs yellow. Frantic, she felt around for her bow to find it was thrown away from her when she hit the ground. The orc sniggered at her helpless state and sent his axe coursing down to deliver the final blow.

He was met with a sword through the middle.

Stella ground her teeth as the creature's weight slumped against her thin sword and had to muster all of her strength to throw the orc to the side. Dark blood stained her blade and splattered on her face. The elleth heaved herself up, staring down at the still-twitching monster.

"It's not nice to axe people," she spat, piercing her blade through the writing orc one last time. Stella's hand clenched her sword until her knuckles turned white and spun around, returning to the battle. She had bigger fish to fry. Namely, a cave troll.

Merry and Pippin were climbing the head of the rotund creature, sticking their small swords into the grey, cracking skin of the troll. It roared in protest, flinging the hobbits off it's flattened head and sending them sprawling onto the ground. Stella slid between the legs of an orc, slashing it's body in half as she went, to where her bow lay untouched on the floor. In one graceful motion, she notched an arrow and fired into the tough hide of the gruesome troll. It spun to her, it's eyes filled with an animalistic rage. She fired another shot.

Her attempts did not kill the beast, however. It took Legolas's arrow straight into the beast's mouth to send it tumbling forward, unmoving. She sent him a relieved glance as he moved to stand directly in front of her, gripping her arm lightly. Stella followed his gaze to see her inner forearm split, her own crimson blood seeping through her sleeve. She pulled her arm away, pressing it to her back.

From behind them, Sam cried out in anguish. "Frodo!"

Stella whirled to see the Ring-bearer slumped forward, a sharp object sticking through his chest. Her mouth dropped.

The rest of the Fellowship rushed to Frodo's side. Aragorn arrived first, lifting the hobbit from the ground. Stella held her breath, preparing herself for the nasty sight.

Yet, when Frodo was face up, his eyes were open and he was breathing steadily. He sent a weak smile to the company.

"Frodo...you're alive!" Sam gasped, rushing forward to embrace his friend. Aragorn let out a relieved laugh.

"But...how?" Merry asked, shocked at his friend's ability to stay alive after he was pierced through the chest.

Gandalf never tore his eyes from Frodo. "I believe that Frodo has a very special gift he neglected to tell us about."

The hobbit, released from his embrace with Sam, peeled back a layer of clothing to reveal a sliver shirt, beautifully woven and sparkling in the low light of the room. Instantly, Stella recognized the glimmering piece of armor. It was Mithril.

"My, you are a lucky hobbit," Stella said, smiling softly at Frodo. The hobbit returned the smile, covering his Mithril with his shirt. Aragorn helped him to his feet gently as more yelps coursed through the mines. The company looked worriedly at the doorway.

"Come," Gandalf said, hurrying out of the small tomb room. "We must take the bridge of Khazad-dûm!"

A chill rippled through Stella as the Fellowship ran at full speed after Gandalf. The shouts of the orcs grew louder with every step she took. The gruesome creatures slithered down the cracking columns like spiders closing in on their prey. Fear pitted itself in her abdomen. They weren't going to make it to the other side.

Orcs swarmed the company, circling them like hungry lions. Stella drew her bow and set her jaw, forcing her fear down. An orc in front of her snarled.

"I have the she-elf," the thing growled, baring it's teeth. Stella did her best not to squirm.

"Like hell you do," Stella said through gritted teeth. She tightened we fingers against the feathers of the arrow and the creature snarled again, stepping closer. She slid further into the Fellowship's small circle, the small of her back pressing against Legolas and Boromir.

Then, all of a sudden, the creatures stopped caging the company in. With yelps and howls, the orcs dispersed as quickly as they came. Stella glanced around in curious alarm. Down the hall, red light flooded the floor through the pillars of stone. Rumbles shook the ground from under their feet.

"What is this?" Boromir asked, horrified. The red light crept closer down the corridor.

Gandalf's shoulders slumped. "A demon from times of old. The Balrog."

From beside her, Legolas stiffened, his eyes filled with fear. Aragorn too looked scared, something that Stella had seen only once before, and that was when she fell unconscious after a blow to the head from a thug in Bree. This was not good in the least.

"We must go," Gandalf said, gripping his staff and turning in the opposite direction. Stella and the others rushed after him, taking long strides to a small passageway hidden by the shadow of a pillar. Gandalf ushered the Fellowship through. "Hurry!"

Boromir went first, followed by Legolas and Stella. The stairs crumbled beneath their feet, the red light illuminating the dirty path. Ahead of her, Stella saw Boromir stop and flail his arms. Legolas, caught his armor and bringing him to the ground. As the elleth neared, she saw the reason for Boromir's stumble was the weathered stone that had broken off much of the passage.

"Aragorn! The stairwell!" Gandalf shouted from behind them. He gripped Aragorn's shoulder. "Do as I say."

Aragorn nodded affirmatively, beckoning the rest of the Fellowship down a separate set of stairs. "Come, follow me!"

The long, disintegrating stairwell felt like it could crumble at any moment under their weight. Stone was falling out of dulled edges and much of the pieces were missing from the steep slopes. A large chunk was removed from the middle, cutting off their continuation down the steps.

In front of her, Legolas was the first to leap off the jagged step and onto the platform on the other side. Stella slowed, her eyes wide. The elf held out his arms to her.

"You must jump! I will catch you!" Legolas called, his eyes pleading. "_Stella_!"

No matter how hesitant she was, Stella sucked in a large breath, swinging her arms and springing from her step. Legolas caught her with ease, one arm wrapped around her middle and one around her shoulders. After a few stretched seconds, she released her hold around his neck and he released his.

"Thank you," she murmured, so low that she wasn't even certain he heard her. But by the way the light, minuscule smile graced his lips, she knew he did.

One after one, each company member followed her example. The hobbits were thrown first, then Boromir, with Gandalf leaping right after them. The stone groaned and crackled, chunks of loose rock breaking from the jagged ends of the last steps of the stairs, creating a bigger hole in between Gimli, Aragorn, and Frodo. Gimli jumped by himself, claiming that "Nobody throws a dwarf" and he could do it alone. However, he was a bit short on his landing, and Legolas stretched his arms out and grasped the dwarf's red beard to prevent him from falling. Gimli roared in complaint, but was able to gain his footing on the stone in a matter of seconds. Stella and Legolas pulled him to safety. But they could not help their friends on the other staircase.

A sickening crack sounded through their ears. Aragorn and Frodo looked at each other in panic as their stairwell started swaying. The old stone had split it's support system in half from the weight of the company and now, the stairwell was going to collapse, bringing the Ranger and the hobbit with it.

"Aragorn! Frodo!" Stella called out helplessly to her friends.

"It's alright Stella!" Aragorn shouted back, taking himself down a step and leaning forward. Frodo followed his example, and the swaying staircase slowly fell forward, connecting to the platform Stella stood on. The man and hobbit rushed off the broken stairs, into the relieved arms of the Fellowship.

Stella helped a stumbling Aragorn as the cries of the Balrog grew heat fanned their faces, causing buckets of sweat to drop down the foreheads of the Fellowship. The company raced across more stairs quickly, not quick enough for the demon that lived in the fires below.

The Balrog was immensely large with big round horns like a ram and an ash-black complexion. It's eyes flashed like fire licking at dry firewood. The smoke and flames encased it, making the heat even more unbearable. Stella kept running, as did the rest of her group, except for Gandalf. When they were safe on the other side of the bridge, the elleth peered back at the grey wizard raising his staff and shouting commands at the Balrog. It did not seem to be working, however, for it again roared, blowing scorching air in her face.

Gandalf slammed his staff against the stone. "You shall not pass!"

A flash of blue light shot through the fires of the Balrog. The demon placed it's large body onto the old bridge, roaring again. But the crumbling bridge could not fully support it's weight and cracked beneath the Balrog. The monster sank with one last bone-chilling roar.

The grey wizard turned away from the ruined bridge, facing the fearfully shocked company. His face was grim, sweat and silver hair sticking to his forehead.

Time seemed to continue in slow motion. For one moment, Gandalf stood facing the Fellowship, the next, he was gripping the jagged rocks for dear life.

"No!" Boromir exclaimed, starting forward. Aragorn's hand stopped him. Stella ground her teeth, shaking her head.

"Hang on! I am coming to get you!" Stella shouted. Aragorn turned to her as she began running, catching her arms and holding her back. She struggled against his hold. "Aragorn, let me go."

"No, Stella," Aragorn replied solemnly, keeping her body latched to his. "We mustn't."

The grey wizard struggled to push himself up, looking wildly at the rest of the Fellowship. His eyes were wide and his face hard. "Fly, you fools!"

Stella barely heard Frodo's anguished cries and felt Aragorn's tight hold as the wizard released his grip, sending himself tumbling into the abyss of fire and darkness.

* * *

**GOSH THAT WAS SUPER LONG**

**But I hoped you liked it :)**

**What will be in store for the Fellowship? The world may never know...**

**R&amp;R!**

**So long, farewell, and until next time.**

**-Halesie :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hello, lovely internet dwellers!**

**Happy Valentine's Day, Singles Awareness Day, etc. etc. (Even if it's not quite Valentine's Day here yet, I'll still say it.) ****And since this is the holiday of chocolate and chick flicks, I shall update, for the sake of the Fellowship and of Lella. **

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything.**

* * *

Stella did not utter a word the rest of the way.

The rays of sharp light cast over the rocks the Fellowship stood on. Faintly, she could hear Pippin's sobs, Frodo's fading footsteps,and the shouts between Aragorn and Boromir. She stood on a high rock, staring vacantly at the forest a few miles away.

Gandalf was gone. The very thought left a wizard-sized cavity in her heart. She wouldn't hear his silly stories or see the magic tricks she used to make him preform. She wouldn't sit and listen to him tell her all the good things she will do when the other orphans made fun of her and her "imaginary wizard". She would never get to apologize.

A hand was pressed on her arm gently. It was Aragorn.

"Stella?" he spoke softly. She had the urge to whip around and yell at him until her throat hurt. And she wanted him to yell back, reprimand her for not apologizing, for being childish. Stella clenched her teeth. "Stella, we need to keep moving."

She nodded, not tearing her gaze from the view in front of her. Aragorn kept his hand on her arm for a moment, before releasing and calling out to Frodo, who had wandered farther away from the company. Stella scuffed her feet, starting forward.

They did not travel far. The journey to edge of the forest wasn't too long, and it was quite easy traipsing over the jagged rocks and grassy fields. The forest was dimly lit, yet held an aura of calmness. Stella gripped her bow tightly, glancing around suspiciously.

"Careful here, young hobbits," Gimli whispered to Merry and Pippin behind her. "They say there's an elven lady, a sorceress, who lures men into these woods. Stay close!"

Under different circumstances, Stella would have laughed and chided Gimli for his silly ghost stories. But instead, she focused her attention on the passing trees and their twisted branches, biting her tongue.

"I'd like to see her take on a dwarf!" Gimli continued proudly. "I have the eyes of a hawk and ears of a fox!"

But he could not have been more incorrect.

Silver arrows pointed at every inch of the Fellowship, gleaming in the pale light. Stella and Legolas's own bows were drawn and directed at the weapon-wielders, but they were severely outnumbered. The pair cast each other defeated glances.

The elven soldiers, equipped with silver armor and shining weapons, had completely circled the company, only parting to let a tall elf man through. Stella assumed he was their captain by the way his armor was the most intricately decorated and how the rest of the elves respectfully let him through. He was muscularly built and bleach blonde, which made him look almost angelic in the pale light. Legolas lowered his weapon.

"We could hear the dwarf breathing from a mile off," the armor-clad elf said, his face unimpressed.

Gimli huffed and the elf captain waved his hand, dismissing the soldiers' weapons. Stella and Legolas too put away their arrows, but Stella's eyes still skirted nervously at the soldiers. The elves were obviously expecting something much more dangerous than the Fellowship, and the thought did not sit very well with her.

After he finished scanning the faces of the company, the elven captain turned and beckoned them with his hand. "Come. We must leave."

The soldiers parted, allowing the Fellowship through. Hesitantly, Aragorn started forward, leading the company behind him. The forest got thicker as they continued, and the light got dimmer. Nobody talked, the pain of losing the grey wizard was still fresh in their minds. Stella's chest ached at every heartbeat just thinking about it.

The pale light through the trees cast shades of blue on the forest. After traveling for a few hours, the elves dispersed slightly, hanging farther behind the company. The elven captain, however, walked with Aragorn, speaking in Sindarin. Stella do not want to intrude on their conversation, for it sounded quite heated. She paid little attention until they stopped at a small platform, and the elf man turned to address the company.

"You cannot continue," he said, glancing at Aragorn. "You contain a great evil and it cannot pass."

Stella narrowed her eyes. They could not stop now, after all they had been through. Gandalf would not have allowed it.

"If Haldir will not let us pass," Legolas muttered to her lowly. "Then we will have to take the longer route."

"Let's hope Aragorn convinces him," Stella said back, her voice raspy from lack of use. Legolas glanced at her before reaching down and lifting her injured arm. The cut had stopped bleeding and it wasn't very deep, but it was uncovered and open to infection.

Stella pulled her sleeve down, gently lifting his fingers from the cut with her own. She gave him the smallest of reassuring smiles, but there was no warmth behind it. It saddened him.

"Please understand, we need your support!" Aragorn continued to argue in elvish. Legolas shifted his gaze from the sad Stella to Frodo, who looked uncomfortably nervous. The hobbit must have known by the way the men were speaking that it was about him and the Ring. Boromir placed a comforting hand on Frodo's shoulder, speaking lowly. However, the Ring-bearer did not look very reassured.

Finally, after a few more tense words in Sindarin, the elf man, Haldir, turned to the Fellowship.

"You will follow me," he said with exasperated reluctance. With one more pointed look at Aragorn, Haldir continued walking on.

With one last look at Legolas beside her, Stella quickened her pace to catch up to Aragorn. They fell into synchronized steps, and Stella laid a hand on the Ranger's shoulder, catching his attention.

"_Where are we going, mellon_?" Stella murmured. Aragorn stayed quiet for a second before laying his weary gaze on her young face hardened by experience. She had seen more in her three short years traveling with him than many could even dream.

"_To the safety of the elves_," he replied, internally wincing at the vagueness of his answer. The elleth furrowed her brow in concentration, but seemed pleased enough with the answer to nod her head and remove her hand from his shoulder.

"_I trust you know what you're doing," she said after a short pause._

"_I always do_," he replied, joking half-heartedly. Stella lips twitched in a small smile, but it was not like her usual silly grins that lit up her whole face. This was sadder and filled with exhaustion.

They fell silent after that and kept walking until the forest grew lighter and the setting sun washed over their faces. It brought much of the despondent Fellowship a sense of serenity to see the beautiful elegant structures of the elves after wandering through the forest. A winding pathway twisted upward, not nearly as steep as Moria, but it was very lengthy. However, even if it was quite long, it certainly did not take four days to climb. Stella's tired feet were very thankful for that.

The twisting path took the Fellowship and elven soldiers up higher and higher, towards the heavens above. By the time they reached the top, the moon cast a shimmering light on the company and the surrounding area. The sight was nothing short of lovely, with the glowing lanterns and fluttering lightning bugs. It was something out of a dream.

A blonde elven man, accompanied by a silver haired woman, stepped off a platform in front of them. The elven lady was just as beautiful as the scenery, if not more. Her waves of silver locks glimmered and her white dress hung off her lean frame perfectly. Her face was youthful, but her eyes held history, wisdom, and age. The man looked very much the same. He had more of an authoritative appeal, but his very being looked like something out of a fairytale.

"Your presence here is known by the enemy," the man spoke, eyes scanning over each member of the small party. "Nine there are here, yet ten set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? I much desire to speak with him."

At the mention of the grey wizard's name, Stella looked down at her boots sullenly. She could feel someone's eyes on her bent head, but she did not peer up.

"He has fallen into shadow," the soft voice of the elven woman replied, as if she had read all their sorrows as clearly as one would read a page from a book.

Stella still refused to look up. However, a voice in her head, much like the elven woman's, echoed through her skull. She looked up, meeting the other elf lady's eyes.

_'You carry much pain in your heart, young Estella. Pain for your childhood, pain for your family, and pain for the grey wizard. You are a loyal and strong warrior, but still a young lady with a heart_,' the voice said. '_Do not be blinded by your pain to not accept the love that is held for you, even if it is not from your blood line. What you seek is held before your eyes, you just need to see it for yourself.'_

Stella stood, frozen. She did not understand, yet at the words that was spoken to her, a warm tug at her heart caused her to blink dumbly. She felt as though she was moving underwater, gliding in the depths slowly. The elleth did not pull out of her trance until Aragorn spoke from beside her.

"We can not thank you enough, Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel," the Ranger nodded, bowing low. The rest of the company followed his example before being lead off by elf maids. The elves lead them down another winding pathway to an open circle of soft grass and winding trees that wrapped their roots around the enclosed area. There were hollow nooks in the bark and more lightning bugs fluttering through the dark.

The company wasted no time in setting up camp. The hobbits took to the nooks in the trees, possibly because it reminded them of their little holes in the ground that they so fondly recall as home. A few tents were set up, but Stella sat away from everyone else, on a high cranny of a tree. She took to braiding her long brown hair, lost in her own thoughts of Gandalf and Lady Galadriel's words.

A scuffle of feet alerted Stella of Legolas's presence next to her. She knew how quiet he could be, and she also knew he only scuffed his boots to get her attention so he wouldn't surprise her. The gesture seemed oddly endearing.

Stella kept her eyes on him as he sat, fingers still weaving her braid. "You should sleep, you know."

Legolas peered over at her a ghost of a smile on his lips. "I should say the very same to you, Lady Stella."

"I couldn't even if I tried," she shook her head. He looked curiously at her, but did not say anything more. The two fell into a comfortable silence as a few lightning bugs flicked themselves around Stella, landing on her arms. A slow smile spread itself on her face.

"I've always wanted to see a lightning closest I ever got to one was a picture in a book," she said, watching a bug flit away from it's spot on her wrist.

Legolas stared at her, eyes drinking in the whimsical sight. "They are quite beautiful. But I have never heard them referred to as lightning bugs."

"That's what we call them where I am from," she responded simply. Another blinked it's blue rear end, buzzing between the pair of elves. "What do you call them?"

"They are referred to as Star-Carriers. Insects that carry light from the heavens," said Legolas. Stella hummed in response and the elf prince paused before continuing. "I mean not to pry, but I cannot help but wonder, where did you come from?"

"A place very far away," Stella answered. The elven prince cocked his head, waiting for her to elaborate. "A completely different world, actually. I don't think you would have believed it if you saw it."

Legolas studied her for minute before speaking. "Well, I would very much like to hear about it."

So Stella told him. She told him about the library down the block, she told him about the fat, snowy flakes on New Years Eve, and about the large Christmas tree in the center of the city. Some modern technology he needed clarification on, such as automobiles, cellphones, and electricity, but mostly, he sat silent, amusedly observing Stella's rapidly moving hands as she talked. She talked about Gandalf, the orphanage, her rotten luck in foster homes, and even the hole-in-the- wall diner she worked at in high school. Stella didn't think she's ever talked that much to someone in her life.

"Your city sounded very lovely," Legolas commented after she was finished, her breathing unsteady from all the talking she had done. "Odd, but lovely."

"It was," Stella agreed, nodding. "But I knew from a very young age that Middle Earth was home. Gandalf never really kept that fact hidden from my knowledge. That is how I know Sindarin and the cultures of most Middle Earth inhabitants. Gandalf taught me."

The elleth's face dropped slightly and her voice grew small at the mention of her old friend. Aragorn had informed Legolas of her predicament with wizard and the elf spoke to quickly avert the subject.

"Mirkwood has always been my home, but I have not been to see the golden trees in a very long time," the elf prince said, changing the subject. Stella tilted her head curiously, momentarily forgetting her predicament.

"If you don't mind me asking...why not?" she asked softly.

"I thought I desired to see new places. But after a few decades of travel, the adventure was more tiring than exhilarating. I set out to go home, but by then, I was called to Lord Elrond's council," he said, sighing slightly. Stella stayed silent, letting him continue if he wished. "Mirkwood is beautiful. Never will you see the greenest of leaves in the summer months, or the reddest in autumn. The land is covered with soft moss and the streams flow freely on the rocks. The places in the kingdom are just as magnificent as the nature surrounding it. Stone columns, wine colored carpets, and ornate art of my people on the walls. You could not come across such a sight every day."

Stella smiled at the image his description left in her head. "It sounds beautiful."

"It is. I would've very much liked to taken you," he said in a way that made her heart ache. She would've very much liked to have seen it. But they were unsure of the road ahead and however terrifying the thought, the threat of death was always near.

The conversation seemed to slow after that, tired words mindlessly being passed between them. Stella failed to be discreet and rubbed her eyes sleepily. The inner turmoil of emotions and the lingering conversation, mixed with the peaceful stillness of the scenery, left a weary feeling in her bones. But she did not feel right to leave Legolas so abruptly just to sleep.

The prince, however, knew exhaustion when he saw it. Stella was clearly very tired, even if she denied it profusely. And, not that Legolas would admit it out loud, but he needed to rest as well.

"You look quite tired," Legolas remarked, amused at her delicate fingers rubbed her cerulean eyes.

"No, I will be alright," Stella said. However, to contradict her point entirely, she let out a small yawn. The elf prince smirked.

"Sweet dreams, Lady Stella," he spoke softly, removing one of her hands from her face and kissing the back of it lightly.

"Ever the gentleman," Stella murmured, her eyes half-lidded as she slid from off the tree, as graceful as a half-asleep elleth could be. Stella's feet dragged over to where she set her sleeping roll by a silver lantern. Without another word, she curled up in the blanket and fell asleep on the soft grass.

Legolas settled his back against the tree, propping his legs up where Stella had sat. He made no movements for a short moment in time, but ever so slowly, his lips twitched up and a silly smiled blossomed on his young face.

He knew he was in too deep to be pulled out now. But the thought did not trouble him. If anything, it couldn't have made him any happier.

* * *

**So it kinda started on a super depressing note, but at least they're a little happier...sort of.**

**I hoped you liked it! There is some pretty...ah...intriguing stuff in store for our friends. But never fear, I can assure you that it will end happy.**

**So long for now, lovely people.**

**-Halesie :)**

**P.S. I like you a latte.**

**P.P.S. I also though that was appropriate considering the day, plus the fact that I really like puns. And coffee.**

**P.P.P.S. Also, please review. Thaaaaaanks! :)**


	10. Chapter 10

**Hey!**

**It seems like I haven't updated in FOREVER. How've you been? I'm curious, and it's 11:04 pm here, and I kinda turn into a nosy twerp any time after 10. Sorta like a really annoying vampire. **

**So, I must warn you, I am quite tired and a little sick, so this editing quality may not be top notch. Just throwing that out there.**

**And I must also apologize for the lengthy time without a new chapter. I thought I was going to have all this time to write over winter break, but this was kind of a difficult chapter to write and I just kept procrastinating and it continued being pushed aside and...just stuff.**

**But, heeeeey now you get an update. Better late then never!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of The Rings.**

* * *

Stella was the last out of the Fellowship members to wake.

The elleth blinked the sleep from her eyes and stretched her limbs from under her blanket. Then she sat upright, glancing around at the rest of her company. Legolas had gone from his perch on the tree, and Gimli had stretched his short legs in the elf's former resting place. From a few feet away, Pippin and Merry were admiring a pair of daggers in their palms and Aragorn was rolling up his pack carefully. Taking the corners of her blanket, Stella started to fold, following Aragorn's example and began to pack what was given to her by the elven maids.

The hazy morning light filtered trough the spindly fingers of the trees, as the sun's rays had barely kissed the dark blue sky yet. Stella finished her packing swiftly, and moved to assist Aragorn and Boromir. The Gondorian man seemed to be having slight issues with fitting everything, but the Ranger quickly packed his little belongings that were given to them quickly and with practice. Stella knelt next to Boromir, adjusting the blanket and straps carefully in his pack.

"It is easier if you fold the corners," she said, folding the ends diagonal from each other on the blanket and rolling it up. Boromir looked at the sleeping pack quizzically before offering her a light smile.

"Thank you, my lady," he nodded, taking his sleeping roll away from her.

Stella waved her hand dismissively. "Please, just call me Stella."

Boromir nodded slowly. "As you wish, Stella. But I must ask...wherever did you learn that trick?"

The elleth smiled and inclined her head to the Ranger, who was now assisting Pippin and Merry. "Aragorn taught me when we travelled together a few years back."

"You are just traveling companions? I thought you may be of the same kin," Boromir said, surprise quite evident in his tone. Stella shook her head, amused.

"No, we aren't relatives," she explained. "But I do consider him as family."

"Quite like Gandalf, correct?" the Gondorian man asked. Stella bit the inside of her cheek. The ache I her chest was still prominent, but she pushed it down.

"Yes, I suppose you could say that," she agreed, nodding and hopping to her feet. The words of Lady Galadriel were fresh in her mind as she shuffled over to Aragorn. Stella was unsure of what the elven lady wanted her to do with her advice. The elleth's nose wrinkled at her own thoughts.

"I know that look," Aragorn said suddenly, clapping Stella's shoulders and breaking her focus from a winding root at her toe. The Ranger schooled his face to look utterly serious, but she knew by the way the right corner of his mouth twitched that she wasn't going to like what he was to say next. "That is the look of a lady who lingered too long in conversation with her elven prince last night."

Stella blinked slowly, dumbfounded. "What?"

"You need not act so oblivious," Aragorn said, tilting his chin high in the air to make himself look as if he knew it all. To Stella, however, it made him look quite ridiculous. "I do have ears and I heard your hushed tones, even if I could not make out the words."

"You're silly," the elleth said, rolling her eyes and brushing his hands off her shoulders.

"No, no, my dear Stella, I am observant," Aragorn corrected, wagging his finger at her before clasping his hands in a businesslike manner and clearing his throat. "Now, when are you to be married?"

Stella's ears flamed and she choked on her own saliva. "I'm not getting married!"

"Oh dear," the Ranger gasped dramatically. He looked around in mock panic and cupped his hands around his mouth to whisper to her loudly. "Does Legolas know this?"

"Do I know what?" the elf prince asked, coming to stand next to Aragorn. Stella's eyes widened, her cheeks and ears flaming.

Aragorn, however, smiled pleasantly. "Ah, Legolas, just the person I wanted to see. Now, tell me, when is—"

Stella stomped on her pesky friend's foot, causing him to groan and abruptly stop talking. Legolas knitted his brow, shooting confused glances between the two of them.

"He was, ah...he was wondering...when our departure time was!" Stella said hurriedly. The elf, however, still shifted his gaze from her and the keeled over Aragorn. The elleth bit her lip, tucking a strand of loosened hair behind her pointed ear and silently begged that he took the excuse.

"Ah...soon. Lord Celebron ordered three boats to take us down the river," Legolas said, his face still masked with confusion. Stella nodded quickly.

"Right, of course," she said, avoiding any eye contact. Instead she focused her gaze on the hobbits, who were still failing at packing themselves up and were grumbling loudly at each other. Taking one last look at Aragorn, Stella hurried over to Pippin and Merry, mumbling excuses of lousy friends and noisy hobbits.

Fortunately, Pippin and Merry didn't really know how to pack their sleeping rolls properly, leaving Stella to spend a good fifteen minutes helping them. She tried very hard to avoid the teasing Aragorn and puzzled Legolas. It wasn't easy with Aragorn smirking at her back the entire time, so when an elven maid with skin like moonlight and hair like gold beckoned her from the stairwell, she felt extremely relieved. Stella finished tying the strings on the sleeping roll, dusting her hands off on her pants with a sigh.

As she traipsed up the stairs, the elven maid inclined her head. Stella returned the gesture gently.

"Lady Estella?" the elf maid asked. Stella nodded in assurance. "Your presence has been called upon by Lady Galadriel. Follow me, if you please."

The elf maid turned and slowly made her way back up the stairs. Her waves of hair kissed her satin dress lightly and her frame was long and lean. She was built much like Minuial, except Minuial's fingers were shorter and her hair was considerably darker. A wave of sad longing passed over Stella at the thought of the elven friends she lady behind. They had probably departed from Rivendell by now, never to be seen again. Stella knew they were safe, but it did not help the dull ache in her chest.

The winding stairs were much like the ones the Fellowship climbed last night. These, however, did not carry her quite as far. Soon, the two elves came to a platform where Lady Galadriel stood in a soft white dress with her blonde hair swaying in a light breeze behind her. As they neared, the elf lady smiled gently.

"Estella," she greeted and Stella bowed respectfully.

"My Lady," the elleth replied. She straightened her spine and looked at Lady Galadriel, her eyes curious and slightly fearful.

"You need not be afraid, young one," Galadriel assured. "I simply wished to properly meet the young elf Gandalf raised."

"Of course, Lady Galadriel," Stella replied easily. The elven lady studied the other girl for a small moment, and Stella did her best not to squirm.

"You are very brave, Estella. And very troubled," Lady Galadriel said after a few minutes. "You have only known the care of the grey wizard, not of you're own kin. You have seen things that you did not wish to see and felt pain throughout your life. But you have learned much."

Stella nodded at the elf lady's words. Memories came rushing back at her like an ocean wave and she swallowed the lump in her throat as Lady Galadriel continued.

"Never fear, Estella. Your loyalty is unbreakable and your strength is great. And you are learning to allow love into your heart. Do not mistake this love as weakness, for the will of the heart can conquer many enemies and defeat the darkest of evils," Galadriel smiled at the elleth, who absorbed every word that came out of the elf lady's mouth like a sponge. "I can not give you much, for there is more you must learn for yourself. But I can offer you this."

The elven lady stretched out her palm to reveal a small sliver chain pooled in her hand. On that chain was a tiny, metallic star. The silver gleamed softly in the pale light, but there was no mistaking it's beauty.

"Lady Galadriel...it is lovely," Stella breathed. She stared at it, entranced, before shaking her head. "I cannot take it."

Galadriel smiled fondly. "It is a gift, young one. May it assist you in the darkest of times."

With another look at the elven lady's porcelain face, Stella carefully peeled the silver chain from Galadriel's palm. The necklace was as thin as spider silk, and the charm was barely as big as her fingernail. There was no doubt that it was lovely, for Stella hadn't seen anything so magnificently crafted in her life.

"Your gift was the last I wished to give. You must depart now with your companions. We may not meet again, young Estella," Galadriel said softly as she watched Stella clasp the necklace around her neck.

"Thank you, My Lady," she said, bowing once again. The maid who had beckoned her to Lady Galadriel lead Stella back down the stairs, but not before Stella turned to smile at the elven lady in white one last time.

The elf maid lead her down a different path this time, this one with less stairs and more passageways. She could see the shoreline and the river ahead of her. The sun had now risen over the trees, splintering rays across the blue water. As they neared, boats on the rocks and her companions became less like specks and more like people.

Lord Celebron and Haldir were too at the shore, looking very regal on the rocks. The elf lord stood, talking quietly with Aragorn, who was the only member of the Fellowship besides herself to not be in a wooden boat. As Stella approached, their conversation halted, and Aragorn turned to smirk lightly at her.

"And she arrives. Late, as usual," he chided teasingly, and the elleth rolled her eyes at her ridiculous friend. She slid into the boat containing Gimli and Legolas, giving them small smiles as she sat.

"Farewell, members of the Fellowship. You have a long journey ahead of you, and the further you travel from this shore, the more danger you will encounter. The orcs now hold the eastern shores of Anduin," Lord Celebron said, catching the attention of all member of the Fellowship. At the mention of the orcs, Stella sat up a little straighter, gripping her bow.

"Thank you, Lord Celebron," Aragorn bowed. He nodded a farewell to Haldir before climbing into the boat where Frodo and Sam were waiting. The Fellowship pushed themselves from the shore, slowly paddling down the river. The water lapped at the side of the boats and Stella dropped her hand to feel the cool, blue liquid run between her fingers.

With the sun warming her face and the cool water licking at her fingertips, Stella felt calm. If they weren't on the quest and didn't have possession of the Ring, she would've even dared to say she was completely at ease. But after everything that had happened already, it didn't feel right thinking like that.

Behind her, Legolas and Gimli had struck up a conversation. She turned to see a faraway look in Gimli's eyes as he described the parting gift Lady Galadriel gave him.

"No gift would ever be fairer to me," the dwarf sighed, his eyes gazing into the water.

"What was it?" Legolas asked as he paddled gently.

"I asked for a hair from her head, but she gave me three," Gimli replied, still in his dreamy state. From over his head, Stella and Legolas shared a smile at the enchanted dwarf.

"She must have thought you to be worthy of such a gift," said the elven prince.

"No, no. I may never be worthy," Gimli protested, shaking his head. Stella patted the dwarf's arm gently and Legolas said nothing after that. The inhabitants of the boats fell quiet, basking in the feeling of the sun on their faces and admiring the landscape around them. The bright blue sky with wisps of white clouds danced above their heads and jagged mountains surrounded them. The scene left a lazy haze on Stella's mind, much like a muggy summer's day would. After a long while of sailing down the river, she even considered falling asleep. It may have only been noon, but the breeze was nice and warm on her skin when she rested her head on her knees. Her eyelids were fantastic heavy, yet Stella reluctantly willed herself awake. The idea of orcs jumping through the forest that was located on the left of Stella was unnerving.

The forest, despite the bright sun, caused chills to run up the elleth's arms. The eerie feeling was different from Moria's one. This felt more quiet and creepy, like a cat slinking low in the grass before pouncing on it's prey. A shiver rippled itself down Stella's spine.

The three boats collided with a 'thud' on the ground below as they hit the shoreline. Pippin was the first to climb out of his boat, obviously eager to place his feet back on solid ground. Stella, unlike her hobbit friend in the next boat over, was extremely reluctant to leave where she sat. It took a huff from Gimli for her to let out a sigh and stand to help the dwarf out of the small wooden vessel.

"Do you feel that as well?" Legolas said quietly, stepping from the boat and onto the ground beside her. She pursed her lips and glanced at the elven prince.

"The creepy-crawly feelings up my arms because of this forest? Yes, I suppose I do," Stella whispered back, rubbing her hands up her forearms. Despite their current situation, Legolas smiled lightly.

"Something like that, yes," he replied. She nodded, grasping her bow and stood stock-still, observing the forest carefully. Legolas went to softly converse with Aragorn, leaving her to warily peer at the trees and keep close tabs on the rest of the Fellowship. Merry, Pippin, and Sam sat on the roots of some nearby trees while Boromir set his pack of supplies on a grassy patch further back.

Stella furrowed her brow at the sight. The Gondorian man may have placed his belongings by the tree, but he was not physically there. The elleth had a sickening feeling that sunk in her stomach.

But before she was able to even open her mouth to say something of this new development, Sam frantically shuffled around and made a sound of distress.

"Where's Frodo?" the hobbit demanded, looking up at Aragorn with a panic-stricken expression on his face. The Ranger spun in a full circle, trying to locate their lost friend.

"Boromir's gone too," Stella piped up, her expression darkening. "Aragorn, you don't think..."

Her friend shook his head at her unfinished sentence and grave tone. "We must find Frodo. Hurry!"

The Ranger ran off into one side of the forest while Stella and Legolas splintered off on a different trail. Gimli had followed the pair for a short moment, but quickly dispersed himself to widen the search party. The woods were vast, but the company had not been on land very long before Frodo and Boromir wandered off. Stella prayed that something else didn't find them before the Fellowship did.

"They cannot be far. If Boromir left his belongings—" Legolas was cut off by a cry to the left of the pair. With a shared look of concern, Stella and Legolas took off across the leaves and twigs that littered the ground.

They were prepared for a ghastly sight, but, to their relief, Boromir was just curled on the ground. His sobs racked his body, and Stella slowly took another step forward.

"Boromir?" she asked, laying a hand on the shoulder of the crying man. He did not lift his head.

"I shall go alert Aragorn that we recovered him," Legolas said softly. He grasped Stella's other hand with his own, squeezing lightly. His face was hardened with concern. "Stay safe."

The elleth, nodded and cast a smile at him, even if it did not quite reach her eyes. "You too."

With one last look at her face, the elf prince took off, leaving Stella alone with the Gondorian man. Boromir had sat himself up and sniffed.

"I apologize, Stella," he said sadly. "It took hold of me. It—it..."

"It's alright, Boromir," Stella replied, hushing his despaired words. She gripped his forearms, hoisting him to his feet gently. "The Ring's power is deadly. It can corrupt and twist someone until they aren't even themselves anymore."

"But Frodo...oh what have I done?" the man whispered, hanging his head in shame. Stella placed a comforting hand on his arm, but her ears perked at the sound of clanging metal and inhuman snarls.

The orcs had found them.

"We have to leave," Stella muttered to a frozen Boromir. His eyes were wide with panic. She tugged his arm, pulling him out of his reverie and across the leafy ground. "_Now_!"

Stella silently hoped that Legolas or Aragorn had found the missing Frodo before the orcs did. From the sound of it, there were many of the devilish creatures, much more than a dwarf, two elves, two men, and a couple of untrained hobbits could handle. The elleth cursed aloud in Sindarin.

"Pippin, Merry? Sam?" she called, racing through trees towards the river where she last left her friends. An arrow whistled in her ear, barely skimming her head. She whirled around to see orcs racing down the small hills after her and Boromir. The man drew his sword as the demonic creatures neared, slicing the first few down before they could reach her.

She fired a few shots, but more beasts kept flooding through the trees, snarling and waving their weapons high in the air. Axes and sharpened swords swung at her, but Stella dodged them quickly to avoid getting cut in half. She reached into her quiver to notch another arrow, but all that came up was thin air. Her eyes went wide as she fumbled around the quiver, momentarily letting down her guard.

With all defenses lowered, her enemy took it's chance. The ghastly orc swung his axe at her feet, sweeping Stella clean off the ground. She let out a startled cry as her head hit the ground, and Boromir whipped around to see the orc prepared to chop her down the middle. The man sliced the head off the unsuspecting beast, but Stella did not get up. She laid on the ground, dazed from hitting her skull on the muddy ground.

"Stella, you must get up! Quickly!" Boromir shouted. Time seemed to slow and Stella felt as though they were all moving through a pool of Jell-O. One minute, the Gondorian man was stood, begging for her to get back up, and the next, he collapsed onto the ground next to her, an arrow sticking out of his chest.

She tried to let out a cry, but a hard object hit her temple and black dots flooded her vision. The last look Stella had was of Boromir struggling to sit up, a barbed arrow sticking out of his shirt.

With a strangled sigh, the elf girl closed her eyes and let the darkness consume her.

* * *

**...And that concludes Chapter Ten with a kinda-cliffhanger.**

**Ahhhhhhhh, the ever impending threat of death is so...lively. **

**Please remember to R&amp;R!**

**Oh, and shout out to one of my best friends ever, Ryan, who was an absolute darling to read "The Lady of Chaos". And, while we're at it, shout out to all of you who read this as well. Thanks :)**

**See you next time!**

**-Halesie**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hello, people of Earth.**

**You have successfully reached Chapter 11, welcome to your demise.**

**...I'm just kidding :)**

**I feel like I apologize waaaay too much on here, but I must this time because it just feels like a thousand years since I've been on here. It's what we call "Hell Week" for our school musical and I've been working like crazy, which has ultimately prevented me from writing and even reading FanFiction. I was quite upset about that, actually.**

**Anyway, enjoy chapter 11! There may be some spelling or grammatical errors (I kinda just cranked this out the past two days) so just ignore them if you can. **

**And I need to give this lil chappie credit to Jo, who was the one that told me that it would be fantastically torturous if I split our beloved elves up and wrote from two different perspectives. So thank you, darling Joanna, for this small bump in the road for the few members left of the Fellowship.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, I just love it too much to be healthy.**

* * *

Stella felt like a tossed sack of potatoes.

Her bones ached, her head throbbed, and her tongue tasted like sandpaper. She wouldn't even try to open her eyes, for that would make the throbbing in her skull even worse. Her body felt like one giant bruise, and it didn't help that she was being shaken repeatedly.

"Miss Stella?" a voice whispered to her. Stella furrowed her brow at the voice. It sounded familiar, but her groggy brain couldn't seem to identify who it was. "Miss Stella? Please wake up Miss Stella!"

"Pippin?" the elleth muttered, straining her sore muscles to rub her eyes with her hands. But she soon found she wasn't able to, for her hands were bound tightly with frayed rope that scratched against her bony wrists.

Pippin watched his elven friend helplessly. "They've taken us, Miss Stella. The orcs that attacked us in the forest...they bound our hands and took us."

Stella's eyes widened and she craned her neck to see orcs swarmed around them, snarling at each other. The blonde hobbit looked fearfully at the elleth.

"They've been talking about eating us, Miss Stella," he said, his voice shaking.

"No one is going to eat you, Pippin," she reassured, giving him a small smile. The action hurt her cheeks and created more throbbing in her temples, but the small hobbit needed a comforting gesture. She was positive he hadn't ever experienced anything like this in the Shire before.

"They will if Merry doesn't wake up!" he whispered back.

"Merry's here too?" Stella asked, siting up quickly. She could barely see in the dark night, but it was quite easy to make out a tuft of blonde hair lying next to Pippin.

"Yes. One of the orcs said something about needing us for Saruman. They didn't say anything about you though," the hobbit said, eyes shifting to the unconscious Merry as he stirred.

Stella narrowed her eyes at the gruesome orcs, wriggling her hands that were tied in the knots. "They need food somehow, I suppose."

Pippin's eyes widened and he opened his mouth to speak, but Merry muttered next to him and the frightened hobbit attended to his friend. The orcs continued to bustle around, snarling and growling at each other. They were obviously in a very heated argument. Stella's ears twitched, desperately trying to listen in, but to no avail. Her senses hadn't quite gotten back to her yet from the blow she received earlier.

However, it didn't take much to hear the sudden squeals of surprise and the thuds of horses hooves.

Stella stopped squirming in her bonds and stared, expression frantic. Men on horses tore through the orcs, taking the creatures down with their swords. The orcs snarled and yelped as they went down, their weapons scattering on the grassy ground. With a skillful somersault on the ground and a few rubs against a fallen axe that was now beside her, Stella's painful bonds were broken.

Much to her dismay, Stella's bow and quiver were gone, scattered in the leaves of the forest she was knocked unconscious in. The elleth felt slightly empty without her usual weapons, but she pulled her sword from her sheath and crawled past the hooves of horses to assist her hobbit friends anyway. Pippin nearly got crushed by a horse while she was maneuvering across the grass to help Merry, but he rolled out of the way quickly. The two hobbits, now free of their own bonds, scrambled to their feet, taking off into the woods. Stella stumbled after them, an orc nearly taking off her head with his axe in the process.

The three escaped prisoners scurried over brush, leaves, and twigs, desperate to get away from their former kidnappers. Merry fell over his feet a few times, but Stella gripped his arm and tugged him along. The other blonde hobbit did not slow, but with good reason. They were being followed.

"We cannot run forever, Pippin," she said breathlessly, after Merry tripped for the fifth time in the past thirty minutes. Stella's hair clung to her sweaty neck as she stared at Pippin. He dropped his shoulders in defeat, coming to a stop in front of them.

"Yes, I know," he said, breathing hard and staring at a tree. Then, it was as if an imaginary light bulb went off in his head. He pointed to the trunk covered in dark, mossy bark in front of them. "Climb!"

"What?" Merry exclaimed. Stella however, hooked her hands and feet on the bark, maneuvering her way up the trunk without uttering a word. Pippin followed suit with the reluctant Merry after him. But the last hobbit didn't get very far, for his foot was snatched in the air and he let out a cry.

Stella glanced down to see Merry torn from the bark and thrown to the ground by a gruesome goblin-like creature that she immediately recognized as one of the orcs that was fighting with the others. The slimy creature wrestled Merry on the floor of the forest, baring sharp fangs in it's victim's face.

"Merry!" Pippin exclaimed, shifting his feet to start back down to the ground. Stella did as well, but the two didn't get as far as they would have liked. Half way down the trunk, the pair discovered a slight problem: the tree was moving.

Stella yelped, gripping the bark with her fingers as the branches creaked under her. Merry was tossed up from the grass and into the long fingers of the tree. The elleth and the other hobbit held onto the bark of the trunk for dear life, but they too were swept up into the spindly finger-like branches. The orc was not as lucky as they were, however. It's dying squeal as it was squashed from the tree creature rang in Stella's ears and her eyes widened. She stared at the tree and it blinked back at her.

"Little orcs!" a large voice spat out. Pippin, who was squished up next to her, stopped squirming. The tree's eyes narrowed and it was then that they realized it was the one talking.

"Merry," Pippin whimpered, his eyes bulging from it's sockets. "Merry, the tree's talking..."

The talking tree stopped all it's movement and glared at the two hobbits and the elf. "Tree? I am no tree, I am an Ent, you little orcs!"

"He's a Treeherder, Pip!" Merry exclaimed, staring up at the Ent as if the talking tree possessed the world's greatest secrets. "A shepard of the forest."

"Don't encourage it, Merry," Pippin said, wriggling around and jabbing his elbow into Stella's sharp hipbone.

"Don't move, Pippin," Stella hissed under her breath.

"What, ah, what side are you on?" Pippin inquired, ceasing his squirming, much to Stella's relief. The Ent looked offended.

"Side? I am not on any side, little orc," the tree cried, his grip on them tightening. Stella's ribs felt as though they would snap and she sucked in a sharp breath.

"Orcs? We're not orcs!" Merry said. "We're hobbits! And Miss Stella is an elf!"

"The burn, they tear, they cut, and they destroy. Curse them. Curse the orcs!" the Ent replied, clearly not listening to their protests.

"We are _not_ orcs!" Stella shouted, interrupting the tree's rant. It abruptly halted it's speech and blinked at her. The elleth gritted her teeth at her compressed ribs. "These are halflings and I am an elf! We don't tear or cut or destroy...we were trying to escape!"

The Ent was silent for a few seconds, as if considering her words, before replying. "The White Wizard will know. I will let him decide."

"The White Wizard?" Pippin asked from beside her, wrinkling his brow. Then a sudden realization must have dawned on him, for his eyes widened. "Saruman?"

The Ent did not respond, instead, it dropped them on the leafy ground. Stella's hand slipped down to her belt where her sword rested, but she as the hobbits made no movement to get up. They did, however, incline their heads up to see a figure dressed all in white with a withered face and a winding walking staff.

Stella's jaw dropped at the sight. This wasn't Saruman. This White Wizard was supposed to be dead.

* * *

Legolas was itching to shoot the horse master right between the eyes.

The Riders of Rohan were not very welcoming, but he expected that, so it did not bother him in the least. No, he was bothered because the loud, boisterous dwarf was just threatened to be decapitated by a human.

Legolas knew that he could be speared by the men surrounding him and face a grisly death if he let his temper get the best of him, but that did not stop him from raising the already notched bow. His patience was already quite thin and he did not want to see another member of their company take their last dying breath while he could help it. It wasn't because Legolas liked the dwarf; he simply felt an obligation to threaten those who threatened the Fellowship. It would be the very same for any one of the hobbits, or Aragorn, or Stella...

Stella. His heart constricted at her name and he pursed his lips, running his fingers on the corner of her bow that was slung across his shoulders. He had found her elven carved weapon buried in the brush on the ground, but no Stella. Legolas tried not to dwell on the lost elleth and hobbits, for the idea of them being in possession of the orcs left a foul taste in his mouth. Instead, he tried to focus on the conversation being held between Aragorn and a horse master with long blonde hair.

Currently, the man from Rohan was pulling his helmet from his head and gesturing to the rest of his men to lower their weapons. His face was stoic as he dismounted from his horse.

"I am Èomer of Rohan," he introduced himself, nodding his head stiffly at them.

Aragorn returned the gesture lightly and respectfully. "I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Glòin, and Legolas of Mirkwood. We are friends of Thèoden, your king."

Èomer narrowed his eyes at the elf prince, who simply held the man's gaze, unblinkingly. Eventually, the horse master looked away and carried on with the conversation, but not without one more pointed glance in Legolas' direction.

"Thèoden does not recognize friend from foe. He does not even know his own kin," the horse master said, a pained tone buried in his tone. "Sauron's reign of darkness is to great and the White Wizard's control is too widely spread. They have gained possession over King Thèoden and this land. The company you see are the one's who are loyal to Rohan, and for that, we are banished. It has not been easy, for the White Wizard is cunning, and his spies roam everywhere, slipping past our nets."

He cast another pointed look at Legolas and the elven prince resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Aragorn hastily replied to ease his friend's annoyance.

"I can assure you that we are not spies of Sauron. We are tracking a pack of Uruk-hai. They have taken three of our friends, two hobbits and an elleth," the Ranger informed Èomer. "Have you seen them?"

"We did come across some Uruk-hai late yesterday evening," the horse master said, although he hesitated and shifted his glance around his circle of men before slowly continuing. "But we left none alive."

The elf prince's stomach dropped. Legolas stood very still as his fingers dug into his palms slowly. If Stella, Merry, and Pippin were not killed by the Uruks, then they certainly died at the hands of these men from Rohan.

"We burned the carcasses," Èomer continued after a moment of heavy silence. He pointed his index finger to the thinning black smoke swirling through the blue sky. Legolas swallowed the lump in his throat, forcing himself to stare at the rising black cloud.

"They are dead?" Gimli questioned softly, Èomer's words not quite sinking in yet.

The horse master bowed his head sadly. "I am very sorry. We did not know."

Legolas rested one hand on the shoulder of Gimli and ran his fingers on the corner of Stella's bow with the other. Èomer let out a loud whistle through his teeth.

"Take Hasufel and Arod," he said, handing the reins of the two horses to Aragorn. "They will take you to where you so desire. May you fare better than their former riders."

"Thank you," Aragorn said, passing Arod's reins into Legolas' open hands. Èomer nodded and mounted his horse.

"You may look for your friends, but do not have too much hope. The Uruks are not known to be merciful," the horse master stated as his steed shifted it's hooves from under him. "Farewell."

With one last glance at the company, Èomer lead his men off through the grassy fields. Aragorn's eyes followed the pack of men and horses, but soon mounted Hasufel. Legolas followed his example and, after a short pause, reluctantly extended his hand to Gimli. The dwarf grumbled as he ascended onto Arod, but didn't say anything after he was settled. With a snap of the reins and squeals of the horses, the Ranger, the elven prince, and the dwarf were off, riding to the smoke vibrant against the cloudless sky.

As the three companions rode on to the dark forest, the smell seemed considerably fouler. The sight was even worse. Legolas wrinkled his nose in disgust as Arod and Hasufel neared the outskirts of the woods, where the smoke has been swirling into the sky. The piles of Uruk-hai, burned and battered on the charred ground, was a grisly view, and one that the elven prince hoped he did not see often. Dismounting from Arod and helping Gimli down, he glanced around to better take in his surroundings. Legolas' quiet footsteps brushed the grass as he peered cautiously over the mound of dead orcs. He pleaded to the Valar that he did not see the faces of their lost companions among the masses of dead bodies.

He kept circling around, searching for the sight of Stella's ruddy-brown hair and small face. When he did not see her, relief washed down his spine. However, it was short lived. From one of the mounds of dead Uruks, Gimli pulled a leather dagger belt and held it up with a horrified look plastered on his face.

"It is one of their little belts," the dwarf muttered, shock and sadness evident in his voice. Legolas' blood turned to ice water and Aragorn stood stock still a few feet away.

Then, with an anguished cry, the Ranger kicked a stray helmet near his foot and sunk to his knees, shoulders sagging. It was as if he held the weight of the entire world. Legolas ducked his head in sorrow. He did not lift it until he heard Aragorn shuffle to his feet and speak aloud.

"They laid here. Two hobbits, and an elf on the far side. They were tied up," he said, pointing to the indents in the burned ground. He slowly stepped forward to where an axe was abandoned on the ground and pulled up a frayed rope that was buried in the grassy brush. "They crawled and cut their bonds, before..."

Aragorn trailed off, his gaze settling on the forest in front of them. Legolas knit his brow, directing his vision at the dark woods as well. Gimli cleared his throat.

"Before...? Before what?" he asked the Ranger. Aragorn tore his sight from the forest and looked at Gimli.

"Before they ran into the forest of Fanghorn," the Ranger replied. The dwarf's eyes widened.

"Fanghorn? What devilry possessed them to go there?" he inquired, thoroughly appalled.

Legolas, who had come to stand next to Aragorn, knelt at the tracks in the ground. "They were chased by a member of the Uruk-hai."

"If the Uruk did not find them," Aragorn said, his lips pursed. "Then whatever is in that forest would have."

Legolas ran his ring finger over Stella's bow and stared into the dark pits of the forest, silently praying that whatever found the elleth and the two hobbits, it was no match for them. All he really wanted was for them to come back alive.

"Then we must follow," Legolas said, after a deafening silence hushed the three companions. Gimli and Aragorn looked at him with surprise at first, but then their expressions turned grave.

"As much as I would like to disagree," Gimli said darkly. "The elf is right."

Aragorn peered into the Fanghorn forest. "Then so we shall."

And, without another word from any of them, the remaining members of the Fellowship trekked off into the dark woods, their safety even more uncertain than before.

* * *

**Whoops, I accidentally sent them to their doom.**

**Well...sort of.**

**This was interesting to write because I've come so accustomed to writing about Stella's life that this was completely new to me. At some points, I even had to ask Joanna if Legolas ****sounded too much like Stella. Overall, this was a nice new development.**

**Thank you so much for reading!Please R&amp;R!**

**Catch you later! :)**

**-Halesie**


	12. Chapter 12

**(I'm having issues with how to start this. L****et's begin with a hello, maybe?)**

**Hello!**

**Hope you are well :) Finally updating after what seems like five billion years. ****This honestly took FOREVER to write. So, if there's any mistakes or cruddy stuff, my bad. But hey, EVERYONE'S ALIVE HERE.**

**Well, everyone expect for Boromir, but that's kinda obvious. I guess that's what Sean Bean gets for his name not rhyming.**

**Hehe, enjoy :)**

**Disclaimer: I do not own LOTR, only in my dreams.**

* * *

Stella couldn't tell if she wanted to strangle the wizard in front of her, or give him a never-ending hug.

He stood tall, peering down at their sprawled figures on the ground below. His face was not as serious as it had once been, but his eyes were still wise with age and experience. The White Wizard gave them a small smile.

"It can't be," Merry breathed in disbelief. He and Pippin glanced at each other before bounding off their bellies and launching themselves at the wizard. Gandalf laughed, taking the two hobbits under each arm in a small embrace. Stella herself even slowly got to her feet, her brow knitted tightly.

After the laughing of the hobbits and the wizard ceased, Gandalf looked at Stella's curious face.

"Estella," he said, grinning. A warm tingle spread it's way from her heart and down to her toes.

"Gandalf," she choked out. The air seemed thin and her need for breathing deeply was great.

"We thought you were dead!" Pippin exclaimed, oblivious to Stella's emotional state. The wizard chuckled and pressed his long, wrinkled finger to the side of his nose secretively.

"I have my ways, Peregrine Took. Do not underestimate a wizard and his abilities," he replied, patting the hobbit's tuft of blonde hair. Then, Gandalf looked up at the Ent and bowed his head in appreciation. "Thank you Treebeard. But I am afraid I have to ask one more favor of you."

"Whatever you need, I may provide," the Ent, Treebeard, responded politely. Gandalf placed his hands on the shoulders of Merry and Pippin.

"It is time for our hobbits to take their leave. I believe they can be of great assistance for you," the wizard said, winking at the halflings knowingly. Pippin's smile vanished as his face contorted into an expression of confusion.

"What about Miss Stella? Shouldn't she come with us as well?" the hobbit questioned, looking up at his elven friend. The White Wizard shook his head.

"No, Estella is needed elsewhere. She has her own battles to fight," Gandalf responded, casting a small smile at the perplexed elleth, before turning back to Pippin and Merry's gaze. "And you two have another adventure ahead of you."

The wizard gestured to Treebeard, who stood there, watching. With one last look at Gandalf, the hobbits made their way to Stella, throwing their arms around her waist.

"Thank you, Miss Stella," Merry whispered, drawing back from his sudden embrace and moving to the patient Treebeard. Pippin, however, didn't want to quite let go just yet.

Stella forced the small hobbit to loosen his arms from around her and she held his face between her palms, smiling. "You'll see me again, Pippin."

"I know, Miss Stella," he nodded, dropping his arms to his sides. With one last smile, he made his way to Treebeard and Merry, the Ent leaning himself down to allow Pippin access to a perch on his shoulder.

The tree stood after Pippin clambered on, nodding one last time at Gandalf and Stella. He turned and continued onward, carrying the hobbits away from the elleth. A frown etched itself onto her face, for her heart felt a tad bit empty now, but she spun to focus on Gandalf's withered face.

"Come. There is much we need to converse about and the rest of the Fellowship is waiting," Gandalf said, beckoning her with his hand. Stella fell into step with the wizard, tilting her head to look up at him.

"I'm sorry," she said after a few beats of silence. His eyes stared unblinkingly at her face. "I'm sorry for yelling at you and calling you a liar. All you were trying to do was protect me, and I see that now."

Gandalf shifted his gaze to the forest in front of them, his hand that did not contain the staff touching the bark on a nearby tree. At first, Stella expected him to get mad at her or, in the very least, be greatly disappointed. But his response was neither of those, something that surprised her immensely.

"I was not being fair," he said, hesitantly. "I should have never kept a secret like that from you. I...I was simply worried that you would withdraw yourself. Lose hope in Middle Earth and in me."

Stella smiled at her old wizard friend. "I couldn't if I tried."

Gandalf chuckled and winked at her in his mysterious way. The elleth laughed and looped her arm through his.

"Tell me about them," she said, looking up at him, her wide eyes giving her an innocence that reminded him of just how much she had grown.

"Well," Gandalf began, clearing his throat. "Your mother, Melui, was an elleth with a peculiar amount of, ah, gumption. You sound very much like her and sometimes, if I am not listening close enough, I would think that she was still here."

His smile lessened, but when he saw the curious look on Stella's face, he continued. "Your father, Alverior, was also quite the elf. He could fight anything in his path, but he also had a strong moral compass. Alverior was Captain of the Guard of Rivendell, which suited him well, for he was extremely graceful and agile. But, when he saw your mother for the first time, he fell flat on his nose! Oh, you could never forget such a sight."

Stella let out an unladylike snort and slapped her hand over her mouth, clearing her throat in embarrassment. "What happened after that?"

"They were married and a few years later, they were gifted with you," Gandalf said, his expression much more serious than it had been before. "Alverior was killed by an orc pack on a trip with Elladan and Elrohir, Lord Elrond's sons. Melui fell sick with grief, but kept herself occupied with you. Her love for you kept away some of the pain, but she grew weaker and weaker, and soon, Lord Elrond gave her the news that she was fading. Melui never wanted to leave you, however, she knew you were needed in Rivendell. So she entrusted me with your care. I found a book containing ancient magic that created a portal to another world and I took you there myself under a protection spell. I couldn't be seen, but I was always there."

Stella pursed her lips, soaking in all the new information she was just dealt. "So that's why none of the other children could see you? You were there, but just not to them?"

"Indeed," the wizard replied. "I planned to return you to your homeland on the eve of your eighteenth birthday, but Middle Earth kept growing darker and I was hesitant. I realize how foolish I was now, but I wanted to keep you safe for as long as possible."

"And I thank you for that," the elleth said. "But I have another question for you...why wasn't I an elf in New York?"

"Ah, I was curious as to when that inquiry would surface," the wizard replied, patting her hand lightly. "It was part of the protection spell I placed on you. When you returned to your homeland, you would take your true form as an elleth. Some of your human side effects remained, however. That is why you are less immune to the cold and you need a slightly more sleep than most elves."

Stella nodded silently, her head buzzing with this newfound information. It was coming at her quickly, like a ton of bricks, yet she didn't mind much at all. In fact, she had even more questions than before. But, before she could open her mouth to speak, Gandalf withdrew his arm from her's and pressed a finger to his lips.

"We are here," he whispered. Stella quirked her ears at the soft sound of voices ahead. The gruff voice of Gimli was the most prominent, for the dwarf hardly could ever keep quiet. A new feeling of excitement bubbled from her toes to her nose at the knowledge that her friends were right in front of her, merely a few feet away.

"You can hear them from a mile away," Stella chuckled, but beside her, Gandalf said nothing. Instead, he shifted in front of her, halting all her movements. Stella knit her brow, perplexed. She opened her mouth to say something, but a hissing whisper from the wizard quieted her.

"Go, up in the trees and shield your eyes. Make sure you are not seen," he said quietly. The elleth so wrinkled her brow, questions tingling on her tongue, but she knew better than to open her mouth when Gandalf got this way. So she sucked in a breath and did as she was told, scampering up a nearby tree and clapping a hand over her eyes.

The voices of men grew louder and louder. She could hear an arrow cutting through the air, along with yelps of distress. Stella wasn't sure what Gandalf was doing, but it seemed to cause the travelers a bit of grief.

"You are tracking the footsteps of the two hobbits and the elleth," Gandalf bellowed, his voice sounding less recognizable with each word. "Are you not?"

"Who are you? Come and show yourself!" the voice of Aragorn replied fiercely. In her mind, the elleth could picture the Ranger's determined eyes and lips pressed into a thin line.

Gandalf gave no reply, but something evidently occurred during his silence to draw a gasp from the travelers. Stella bit the inside of her cheek, her lack of knowledge of the current situation driving her slightly mad. Yet, she kept in one place, hands still clapped over her eyes.

"It cannot be! You're...you're alive," Aragorn breathed after a large pause.

"Indeed," the wizard said, a smile evident in his voice.

"Forgive me, I mistook you for Saruman," another voice, one that Stella immediately recognized as Legolas', uttered. She could picture his apologetic expression and polite incline of his head as he spoke.

"We thought you were dead. You fell off the bridge, you—," Aragorn said, obviously still in a state of disbelief. From up in the branches, the elleth stifled a chuckle at the Ranger's dumbfounded tone. "You fell."

"I did, yes," Gandalf agreed. "Through fire and water, to the lowest dungeon to the highest peak, I fought the Balrog of Morgoth. I defeated my enemy upon the mountainside, but, alas, darkness consumed me. I strayed out of thought and time, the stars wheeling overhead. I thought surely it was the end, however, light returned to me. My work is not finished yet."

"Oh, how nice it is to see you, Gandalf the Grey," said Aragorn, with admiration seeping into his words gently.

"That is what they used to call me, yes, but that is not who I am anymore," the wizard countered. "I am Gandalf the White and I have come back to you now, at the turn of the tide."

"We have all missed you very much, my friend!" Gimli exclaimed merrily. Gandalf chuckled.

"I believe I am not the only one you have missed dearly," he replied. "You may come down now, Stella."

From up on her branch, the elleth peeled her fingers from her eyes and grinned, slipping down the bark. She landed with the tiniest 'thud' on the forest floor, the eyes of travelers fixed solely on her.

"I was wondering when I'd be invited to the party," she said, tossing her hair and wiping her fingers on her trousers. "It was getting quite stuffy up there."

The look of disbelief on both Aragorn and Legolas' faces were laughable. Gimli, however, scoffed and rolled is eyes.

"Women," he muttered. "Can't kill them even with a pack of Uruk-hai."

"Stella," Aragorn uttered, inching forward slightly. "You're alive?"

"In the flesh. And, I don't know about you, but I feel like killing a few more orcs," she said, beaming and feeling quite high and mighty in their gazes of admiration. However, fate would not be kind enough to give her a heroic entrance, so, as if right on cue, her stomach groaned loudly. Stella's ears warmed in slight embarrassment. "But perhaps we can get breakfast first."

* * *

**Could you tell I was hungry while writing this...?**

**Anyway, thanks for reading! **

**I kinda hope my friends don't see these really lame A/Ns, it would be an orcward conversation...**

**...Yeah, 'kay I'm leaving now. Remember to R&amp;R, please and thank you!**

**See you soon :)**

**-Halesie**


	13. AUTHOR'S NOTE, NOT A CHAPTER

Hi!

I apologize that this isn't a new chapter, but I have a few important things to say.

1) I will be continuing this story. However, I am stumbling about on how to get all my ideas into an organized order. I enjoy writing this and the concept, but there are definitely some things that could be improved. I will finish this though, that I can assure you of.

2) I am going on a hiatus. I can't seem to complete this chapter, so I will work on that as time goes on. BUT, this does not mean I will not publish works on . Currently, I have some one shots in the works. I honestly love writing one shots, so I am very excited for them. They may be LOTR related, but they may not be. I have so many more ideas for books and anime that I really feel like I need to publish.

3) I know it may be a bit to ask, but please stay with Stella here. I really enjoy your support for this story and I can't wait to continue!

Thanks guys :)

\- Halesie


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